#mouth-fantasy
The roughness of unshaven sandstone,
dark from the morning's early growth,
jutting its chin estuarywards,
cold until lathered in the midday sun.
A platform for he who would rule
all Merseyside for an instant,
taking in deep breaths of fantasy
for his private meditation.
Mar 18, 2016
Mar 18, 2016 at 11:19 AM UTC