Broken (Keep) Thank You, Muse...
The dandy knave brushes against me bold, brave with whispers candied and hands full of wild rose violets and daisys. Three are offered upon a sweeping bow, dusty, thorny and wilting. Petals are crushed, stalks bend and weep a thorn has bitten, can he not see he is trailing the blood of a lover's... Sign in to see full entry.