Potions

Milano - Italy * Spring 2012
His writing use to be filled with so much passion and ferocity. Every sentence like a sharp knife cutting through the imagination; opening wounds of wonder. It use to stir up emotions like bubbling potions in minds as deep and dark as the blackest cauldrons. But those vessels are empty now, only single words drip-drip to the bottom like drops waiting to be part of something magical.


Good night my lunatic poet ❤