BACKtuRn
I’m through with talking, your words ooze drawling around some unadvertised sleaze of uncomfortableness I can’t wipe away. Tar like and viscous captured to the spot honey trap – snip […]
I’m through with talking, your words ooze drawling around some unadvertised sleaze of uncomfortableness I can’t wipe away. Tar like and viscous captured to the spot honey trap – snip […]
She moves with the fluidity of a recycled raindrop tramped upon by scuffed brogues on pavements dented with use. Face veiled, hands knotted tied and dried, eyes sunken. […]
Stories told for generations carry enunciated in tangled tongues from four corners of Bretagne. I lay in Iceni corn, yet to ripen, their heads droop as if straining to hear […]