Feste's Lute

Scribbles & Sketches of the Unspeakable

An enthused clasp
unyielding,
lips press to
espresso.
Forgotten, she
rots in her
hazelnut thoughts.

Enter your comment here...

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

Email (required) (Address never made public)

Name (required)

Website

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. ( Log Out / Change )

You are commenting using your Twitter account. ( Log Out / Change )

You are commenting using your Facebook account. ( Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: