My eyes are bleary
bloodshot
you can see the wisp of single malt still impairing my vision
i'm yet to realise the day and its mission
I could find you and yes let's run away
a beachside escape, off the grid
empty yourself
unplug to recharge
go small to get large
no more entourage
just you, me, the birds and the bees
sweet honey, no one else can see
feel the salt and the sea
take you with the breeze
forget all those you couldn't please
can now give way to this beautiful opening
on a brand new day
About the Creator
Justin Mark Dunford
Brisbane, Australia
singer for Artisan Kin (new album out) and upcoming solo works. whisky and shiraz lover
sucking the marrow out of life:)
Most of my stories are written stream of thought. an enjoyable process...hope you guys enjoy reading.
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More stories from Justin Mark Dunford and writers in Poets and other communities.
The Fish Song
The room didn’t smell like disinfectants. Its fragrance seemed light and not overbearing. A soft mixture of lavender and mint permeated the space. No beeping machines or any tubes hooked up to four-year-old Kaleeka. Her cacao skin seemed to glow from the light over her head. The family, save for one and the doctors and nurses exited the room like a trail of saints showing their last vestiges of regard.
By Skyler Saunders7 days ago in Fiction
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