©2021 Michael Raven
waiting for the skies to turn green and the snowscaped kiss lips on the tortoise shell nights in winter chill cold winds flow tonight, i am eskimo stone ice tombstones stone ice river floe like diamonds for hands glittershine on -- hunt with me these hollow bone scree scrimshaw me my winter bones etched we wrapped in starcast night you shook your head at me never... never... never seem cold wind blows through my head, driven like snow feather light wight scrimshaw knifed on aging clippers run aground turquoise eyes and granite hue stars all showerfall from your dream dance on my naked flesh
sceadugenga 