loving madness poetry during a full moon
I've heard before that madness is love and love is madness. Either or, both generate fabulous poetry. I never realized how much the Cummings and Whitman and Shakespearean poems I read as a kid shaped my youthful existance. No wonder I'm such a sap. Tonight I burned lavender incense and stared at the stars. french kisses reminisce of the way you taste Did you not think You’d miss the swish Of these hips. The way… how I… t -w i -s t...