the house is dark
but for her open eyes
no animal taps across the floor
no hungry mouth cries
a kettle steams in moonlight
spilling on a table fit for two
the extra chair in shadow
the pregnant silence blue
Scattershot poetry, prose, art, and assorted creative ammunition. A celebration of desire, language, and the revel of life through craft and frequent writing practice.
I checked my blog's numbers after my last post. My readership seemed to be exploding, but considering the volume was all from Singapore,...
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