Rocky VII

Some snowy lullaby  inside a tribal Telluride,  so I can take you to  voluptuous grounds,  where moons hang upside down.  And I will melt down  mountains  with twice  the electric timing.  Hitchhiked with vans,  white as my fingertips.  Blow luck to bits—  falling with stars—  and me back home  inside  your arms.  And I remember… Continue reading Rocky VII