January 2012
1 post
3 tags
Marjorie Matthews, 31
The dust of morning swirls in the toepath the dark’s fleeting detritus leads a gentle way to the warm grey of the city
A quarrel of branches go their separate ways pitched against the girders while witch white bark flakes away on the breaking breeze
Landing on the face of the earth in its sodden card tomb in its sodden down coat jeans and jumper and children’s pyjamas
A...