Sunday morning powers out rain hits the windowpane in that way; that way that reaches deep, gut level memory lane emotional kick A familiar angst; familiar imagery blindsided mind over matter punch, a trigger, time-wind slap back crank You’re nothing more than a shadow cast across the table; a marionette of fate and foe, as …
Trilby Yates
My words are a direct reflection of what is being played out in my mind. For artistic purpose and dramatic effect I have duct-tapped the "edit" button…
Trilby Yates 