Under violent violet skies
Drops of ice seep into my naked skin
Sparking me alive
In a garden clearing
In wider and wider circles
My feet move to the rhythm
Of a melody only I can hear
I feel my soul touch the damp earth
As my heart reaches the heavens above
And I am washed anew once more
YOU ARE READING
In The Back of The Fridge and Other Short Stories
ContoA little something different. A micro-story about a leftover slice of pizza that day-by-day is waiting to be eaten. Just a bit of fun because when everything in the world seems to be going wrong it's nice to take a step back and laugh a little. Even...
