Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
annh Apr 29
Gilt-edged meanderings
decant
the sediment of diurnal isolation
as autumn falls.

'Today I am one, tomorrow I shall splinter again. And thus everything in the world decants and modulates.'
- Vladimir Nabokov, The Stories of Vladimir Nabokov
Jon Thenes Aug 2019
03:15 a.m.

The Crowd Steamy Cloud

Violently Unsilent Noct

Expelled from party tomb

— The End —