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Soul retrieval

The brush mingles with the contour of her hands. Traces of color upon them mark portraits painted in the past, Begging to know how long the..

The calligraphy of your eyes haunts me, Dripping over me, like smoke from dying embers. Taunts in the night from seasoned pastels..

Inspired by Europeansun's Ghostly Opera, and Edgar Allan Poe's The Bells.

My Skin is a prism, your eyes are the prison, and this portrait shall be the sentence

Its a long way home.

The sun has peaked past petulance. I have given in to the depths of penance. The nepenthe does not strip the agony- My most ..

My eyes lingered upon his hands. The tips were like gavels on my arms- He who had safeguarded my harvest. There is no ..

To a girl for valentines day...

A vermillion eclipse inside of the foxglove, Filters through a sieve to whittle down time, Coming clean with the cosmos with..