10.
there is an ocean of aches in this
habour of mine.
at night, when the lighthouses
dim against the onslaught of storm, I go fishing
for an ill-remembered past tucked into
the fold of waves. hidden from view,
this is the
sacred sin i divulge in.
an abashed indulgence of the
ill-remembered past
habour of mine.
at night, when the lighthouses
dim against the onslaught of storm, I go fishing
for an ill-remembered past tucked into
the fold of waves. hidden from view,
this is the
sacred sin i divulge in.
an abashed indulgence of the
ill-remembered past