the skies well
yawning to begin the day
eyes full
the living drips a drop
of sorrow
achy pipes wind through the house
echo the morn
love pours its glass and i awake
a hairy face in a wide open place, reflecting between trees
the skies well
yawning to begin the day
eyes full
the living drips a drop
of sorrow
achy pipes wind through the house
echo the morn
love pours its glass and i awake
