Strider Marcus Jones i listento your love beads glistenin the flotsamof my room- we make themfrom samurai sword foldsat forge and loomin the mess of thrown off clothes. so many smoke me kissesat portal doors,and mithril wisheson primitive floors- take us back againthrough heath and fento imitatelost landscape- cycleand circlesky and stoneoutside and home- in love in lesswith your heavenliness,and … Continue reading The Mess of Thrown Off Clothes