A violin drips its music down- published… — Lance Sheridan


Summer garden of moth wings. Dusk gown of violet, blue- specks of black. Night encroaches, circle moon, breathe the moon-dust in a mouthing. A violinist in a frock coat, maestro of the dark. He plays the music, sister of a song- dripping down a rabbit warren, kneeling down among the grass, dew dripping like a […]

via A violin drips its music down- published… — Lance Sheridan

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