Chapter 9a,The cat,the murder by LeAnn Sweeney

open and now empty palm of a dead person

Feathers

Lite as air gliding seeking Howl comes from an unseen whitewolf How I feel when I share written tales Less alone Less troubled Purposeful Like my row boat the one I dream of Stays her course Floating while I stay in the current Orgassmicly, blessed less alone Tears of joy Fill me as I learnContinue reading “Feathers”