Whatever comes to mind before I alter it with the overpaint of time. Mostly satire, poetry and fiction but occasional unreliable fact, as all facts seems to be today. From deepest Notting Hill. London.
Monday 27 May 2019
Fraudulent beauty.
all colour and no scent
the bloom of a suicides freshly cut wrist
look at me
but don't look too closely
No comments:
Post a Comment