Lashes kiss, and alike
our rose petals...

Warm milk and nutmeg
swathe around her feet...

Those who argue with sheep
are shammyclad in basic black...

He compared her to shadows
cast by a forest in the moonlight...

Magnetic.
South and snow, crisp...

As beads scatter in a
Nonchalant manner...

In the silent observation of the night,
the breeze back combs my hair then chases...

Last night, I met a spider
who I hadn't screamed at before...

Golden sands lay under foot
Picking up a pebble...

Sat by the fusty loch,
with my least favourite orange jumpsuit...

Beneath the satin sheet, she lay curled,
weeping to the sound of her lonely...

Many years ago,
I looped that raspberry ribbon...