I was on the George IV Bridge when I realised, with autumn, the nauseous, clouded state that I reside in for summer is cruelly stripped
Mary, you have lied to the world Have you lied? Is the angel of your dream real Or; Was there too much wine at your
The passion filled by a longing embrace, The pain of your deepest mistakes, The heat rising from your every pore, I am Red. The aching
Sitting in a train station; waiting for a train. The walls are white, the ground is cold and stone. The Sun shines, winter warm, outside.
Elegant, stylish and graceful, this exquisite woman was much more dignified than to be placing herself in this busy burgundy cafe in which she floated
pre-judged and pre-empted He goes mad, a bad; egg or so people think, his mind is made up, and outwards he goes for revenge. He