. . .whispers
fire and brimstone
into your regretfully
attentive ear,
just loud enough
just convincing enough
to drive you mad. . .

. . .step too close
and the notes slide
through spaces
between his fingers,
plunge into wooden floors,
radiate and boil
until silence is gone. . .

. . .the luminous warmth
of an electric device,
a glassy texture
that never dares
to ( Read more... )