john_silver
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My stories
V
There is none of you on the beach only pebbles shells fragments each day the sea will rearrange their pattern. This city is the same. Homes tenements...
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- 196 reads
IV
What paradox describes your voice that though never sentenced dead was buried in my garden, black damp earth ever untended. How is this your voice,...
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- 201 reads
III
Even in darkness you see clearly the hands behind your hands weaving a winceyette robe you can't bear to wear. Or look at, for looking and doing are...
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- 184 reads
II
In this valley that knows nothing but sorrow and hail I marched battered, hands over skull to salvage my brain. They said take that bridge to the...
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- 186 reads
I
You know me. You know why I came here crying like others came before me through their deserts and forests. How long have I been crying without...
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- 725 reads