C.C.:

By C_C_T - About Me - E-mail this page - Add to My Favorites - Add to Blog List - See other blogs in Poetry

Monday, August 6, 2012

Old man and boy. He sat in a creaking coat in a chair with a high back. Feeling the fire as a friendly force he smoked and coughed' I watched his throat ripple and the grey bristle sweep away all illusions. It was good of him he could have spat on my naked knee, but choose to swallow the black... Sign in to see full entry.

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