flashlights in hand poetry we passed through the sodden door falling off its hinges in the dead of night to discover reels of film the images indecipherable. Share this: Click to share on Bluesky (Opens in new window) Bluesky Click to share on Tumblr (Opens in new window) Tumblr Click to share on Mastodon (Opens in new window) Mastodon Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook Click to share on Reddit (Opens in new window) Reddit Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest Click to email a link to a friend (Opens in new window) Email Click to share on X (Opens in new window) X Like Loading...
you had me at sodden door
ah admit it, i had you many years ago.