JourneyJourneyJourney
It's the soft bustle of the crowd And the leaves falling from the sycamore trees The blankets lay out And we sleep on it again
My hand finds it to yours But no longer do you sleep here So it's just nothing That I'm left to love
Like the scene of the crime You left And I had to trace the remnants Hoping to find
"it" again. So it begins once more
Let me out into the crowd as the sycamore trees rustle
~Dorothy
Devious Journal Entry
i came by to say hullo
Benedictions!
--
There is no escape from metre; there is only mastery.
- T.S. Eliot 'Reflections on Vers Libre' 1917 [link]
Keep up the good work!
You fancy my pants? o.O
Get a grip!
Benedictions!
--
There is no escape from metre; there is only mastery.
- T.S. Eliot 'Reflections on Vers Libre' 1917 [link]
--
This never happened. It will shock you how much it never happened.
--
Actions lie louder than words.
--
This never happened. It will shock you how much it never happened.
Weird I've yet to see you around . . .
--
I am the dA mommy - behave.
Suture|OWAT|My Superman
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