Blend titles


A parley exists between pain and water

My liver straggles spirits drawn from spell liquid,
till there’s a lucid grumbling to compel liquid.

That fabric of hurt with its tongue-tied old language
“Drunk”— to fall– to the abyss of pastel liquid

A ship that carries its cloud along with hailstorm
can remember how to never repel liquid.

The bottle holds more stories after it is kissed
to send into the cortex, the bowel; liquid

while the seas throw her hands to welcome rack and woe,
the tavern opens her mouth to resell liquid.


Click Next To Continue Reading This Post

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

About us

Everything you’ll find in our literature are products of our thoughts, experiences and challenges. Search for a theme that interests you, read and tell us what you think about it.



Latest posts

May 16, 2023
February 12, 2023
February 12, 2023