Daily Archive: September 18, 2019

The last time I saw your face

The last time I saw your face, my kind friend. I remember. When we are blessed with youth and vinegar. We don’t know. We have few mentors and people who shall love us.… Continue reading

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“Turn, turn, turn

┬áTurn, turn, turn The old poet sang a lullaby. Sensual woman whispered to me once, come live with me and be my lover. I will be your salvation and you will be my… Continue reading

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Dead flowers and some verbal poetry.

Dead flowers     I came to you with some Tennessee whiskey and a small plant with rosemary trying to grow. I sat on your porch, waiting for you. I wanted to see… Continue reading

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