Comments about jerome moore
Lauren I wander wounded-like, this labyrinth that has cut me with broken bottles,
and I have seen the moon blush which whimpers purple shades around our weathered alter.
Remember that alter I feigned for you?
Though Ive breathed through and swallowed bundles of smoke for you, the signals I feathered and fashioned towards you?
Laying in our gourmet grotto at the brink of a pernicious pool, Indian summer? Me reading to you, readings echoing through the cypress like whipser