Jan 2020
Prose
A waterfall
Black and tarry
Flavoured waves of licorice
Lapping like kittens
Against the shore
Her garden is not one of Eden
But one of thorns
Dark and bruising scrub land
An ink stain against the sky
Filthy with life
A broaching scuffle
In richly opulent underbrush
A white and twisted creature
Seeping with magick
A waterfall
Black and tarry
Flavoured waves of licorice
Lapping like kittens
Against the shore
Her garden is not one of Eden
But one of thorns
Dark and bruising scrub land
An ink stain against the sky
Filthy with life
A broaching scuffle
In richly opulent underbrush
A white and twisted creature
Seeping with magick
i was texting my friend earlier and she was spitting some real fancy language and I was totally feeling it, and it made me realize that it's been way too long since I indulged in my wordy, prosey side.
