Scratched into the Past
Greying apparitions scurry silently down hirsute paths, nestled amongst the cloying warmth of flaking skin. Their crude cement seeps across the contours of our ancient
DNA
"this is sixth form poetry, not Keats or Yeats"
Greying apparitions scurry silently down hirsute paths, nestled amongst the cloying warmth of flaking skin. Their crude cement seeps across the contours of our ancient