memories of fisheye power

once were here but then the light. a burst of stone to wake the night.

a city and a hive of dogs. once constructed knot of logs.

studiers of earth and brother. squashed beneath some fire and smothered.

interrupted days of talk. our gravehole now where come they gawk.

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Fox Kerry

Fox Kerry

If you paint for me even one thing which is true, perhaps I’ll be tempted to consider two. I tell tales poetically, someone else needs to set them to music.