I am the writer who finds clarity in shadows of the dark and stormy
because they listen…listen, without judgment or interruption
in the silence when I spill the pen’s blood
with trembling hands, a little bit loudy
the dark doesn’t flinch with the moonlight over my trombosis
or turn an eyes when I tuck a lover beneath my flesh
given tongue to the pen’s Gila monster
from a flagon of rum on the canvas of the dark’s jowls
scribbling confessions of my sin’s guilty omens
echoing the screams of Atticus Abbey
navigating in the shadow’s of mind’s Odyssey
scratcing a tally of, “Land ho”
in the shadows of the dark and hoary








we are on similar wavelengths tonight dearest Adagio I myself am listening great write ❤️
I find the dark more fragrant than the sunlight,
check out my poem frequency tonight it will trip you out ❤️