Cold Morning Floor

Posted on by hokusgrey

Straight, black hair hangs over eyes, crystal blue. Impossibly long lashes, flick away acrid smoke of a slim cigarette. The smoke is a shroud, become aural and radiant in the light that filters in …

Source: Cold Morning Floor

Published by hokusgrey

Welcome to my blog! This is the home of Hokus Grey - Living Poetry, the window into my thoughts, my heart and my soul. This blog is a vehicle for sharing the world, as experienced through the filter of my life, my love, my experiences. Thank you for deciding to join me. - David J. Roussel

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