On the edge of lonely days.
Your memories are all I need.
I am washed away to a
sundrenched pier.
To sensuous plum rain
on the darkest of nights.
To a single-horned
blue moon, reflected skin-on-skin.
And a summer love,
blooming as island bedfellows.
I found the one
On the edge of lonely days.
Your memories are all I need.
I am washed away to a
sundrenched pier.
To sensuous plum rain
on the darkest of nights.
To a single-horned
blue moon, reflected skin-on-skin.
And a summer love,
blooming as island bedfellows.
A Wandering Poet 