Tag Archives: Prosepoetry

aranya #11: union

What the forest saw: notes cascade into each other, like the sky dripping into the forest, in a waterfall of desire. And born out of the union is the language of the trees. birds catch it in their beaks, and … Continue reading

Posted in aranya, beauty, Could be verse, epiphany, forest, night, Prosepoetry | Tagged , , | 1 Comment