Monday, September 5, 2011

-stand-alone vignettes-







I.

His lips met ears 'Simon Boccanegra' playing...


II.

evening breezes congeal. He behind her, Vesuvius in his veins. The rumblings begin. The air like othello.

III.

he viewed her through saffron eyes, the night air smoldering with incense...


IV.

reclining in blue moans, his eyes cat-like watching southern breezes


V.

his voice echoed in brittle sighs his laughter in thunderstorms fragile fragrance hung somewhere folded neatly were her hopeful hands.



©2011

No comments:

Post a Comment