inseminate my hope – Dumpster Fire Press

The comet is me The night is flooding hitting us with ink tentacles forgotten stars, so many miles afterwards falling in love with our glares why cannot summer just last forever and winter hibernate, so that spring spreads its afternoons on our romantic cheeks whilst the crickets sing along our inner chants of freedom echoContinue reading “VOICES FROM THE FIRE: Aldo Quagliotti”