risk brokenness to gain everything.
Fear not the poet’s cryptic form or rhyme.
the triolet’s a form I lovethe repetition suits me finefamiliar fits me like a glovethe triolet’s a form I lovePerhaps … More
a dagger through the heart is generally no one’s preference…
she wants her hands upon the tool / the danger that it holds compels
a secure shelter in time of storm