Comments about Shelley Hornsby
Like broken glass,
And blood spurts,
Deep on crystal.
Tears settle on lips, salt on tongue tip
Strangling the midnight air
And you just lie there some nights
Sweating, anxiety, fear, future unclear.
No way to reverse
Sometimes it takes you unaware.
It strokes your heart
Like a warm summer's eve
When you see them
standing solitary, sun on their hair,
That gentle frame that stole your heart
And you know,
That the pangs are ...