Lexy Sogl

Sunday morning
Yesterday’s cigars smelt like him
Bold
Specific in their smell
...

Her hands
purely stone
Tampered with
...

The only one
Who sees right through
The fake grin
...

Life’s web is spun
Yet once again

Going different ways
...

When I was a child

Money
Was amusing paper
...

Walking down Tottenham court road
drinking a pint of cold milk
eating fresh wild strawberries
skipping merrily
...

He alleged
To be awestruck
with the colors of sand
...

To die for your love
Seems bland
Unlike me
...

Every Thursday afternoon
Spent
...

Sit Beside Me

Hear the raindrops
Penetrate the ears of trees
...

There is a vast empire
where

mats of woven light
...

I’m supposed to be the strong one
I’m supposed to be evidence
That there is always an alternative
...

She watches in the murky lighting
Not thinking about yesterday
Not thinking about today
...

You could
Be the yellow bird
That sings to me
...

His life had no gist
Nevertheless, plenty of bane
By the time, she was at hand
...

He’s there
Seen by those who pass
Except, Never
...

Gloomy

Well,
The ones who don’t pay notice
...

Purple sky
Bruised by what was never nearby
...

Technically
Natures mistake
Merely
...

Regret
Is a pleasure

For the
...