i left my home in Alabama,
cursive I wrote,
in curses I spoke,
making the same mistakes
of turning to quill
to appease my aches.
an ocean ablaze
unquenchable by ink
still caught in a haze
just let me sink.
sitting at the edge of the Quay,
watching my heart just burn away.
cura te ipsum,
Florence
if you're reading (you know who you are), hope you're well...oh and thanks otis, for inspiring some feelings out of me, hope you're well up there too.