Echoes escalate in emancipation,
lifting love's lives to incarnation...

Closed-off quarters,
the world espies a glimpse...

Love always somehow beyond reach,
cold fingers stretched to nothingness...

A summers day. Images piercing my soul.
A child of a very young age, confusion...

Alone here at dusk as swallows migrate,
And the night sky is all mottled in red...

Breath breezes and wheezes in pain
as rasps rattle in throat so taut...

Steady dripping in caverns of indigo,
as saline slipped from jagged portals...

Left-handed sight
drawn to tiny columns...

Society buries each
dusted soul, interred in...

Morning mists clearing on tor's craggy top,
slope covered in yellowwood trees, dandelions...