Blue water, sweet drift
Skin glistens, golden crystals
I see myself there
Wind’s lamentation
A caress; a minor key
its song for no one
Sunset’s crimson red
clouds obscure purple light
becomes a prism
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Poetry
Father John Misty possessed by the spirit of Elliott Smith Preaches like a holiday reverend Over rhodes piano riffs and Figure 8s […]
I woke up; snowfall In the soft wind, white drifting flakes kiss; wind’s caress
I screamed a set at the top of my lungsTo convince myself that I was still hereThe neighbors were louder