HighBrowCulture Writing

Outsider.

Skin for paper, skin for paper, but yours, is a poem of flesh-

Ba-Ba-Black Sheep

All in all, all in all

You are love- for me- The rainwater after the Sahel drought Silver, as blown glass in a Florence flat Overlooking a café where..

Experimental.

What. IS. Left.

You are the magnolia starlight That slips between the sleeping willow branches Like silver through a dream catcher Or dew between..

Spilled glass.

Do we know when we're in love?

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