Language for me is
only a dream, a distant...

Muted bright was snuffed that night
Under the sightless sky...

On a summer sea
an ocean of promise swelled...

It was pouring that morning
When a curious thought arose...

in your welling eyes
a torrent of agony...

Connections that emanate from the Lotus flower...
M. Moran...

...

Languid lament becomes all that we know,
Or could this be a reason to fight back...

Rest yourself within my bones
Your breath is in my veins...

Condensation mists and covers the cold window...
With one outstretched and child inspired...

Hello, my name is Lucas,
People say, I'm a great boy...

...