Mirrors within your eyes… stare tranquilly in ice.  Those fog risen lids… stilled moments echoing.   Frozen they are… seasoning affection nowhere near to thaw tearcicles. 

Waiting for you  is like waiting to shake the priest’s hand  and thank him for a beautiful funeral    In stone seamed pulpit  am I the only culprit who seeks  redemption from s(k)in in  Dead Sea Scrolls of other skin?    Ventriloquist placed your words in my mouth  and...