Through the low hymn of the crowd
he stares through a red haze
a conductor to the glass choir

...All I Could Do Was Watch Her Leave

"No shadow
No stars
No moon
No care
November
It only believes
In a pile of dead leaves
And a moon
That's the color of bone"




-Tom Waits, The Black Rider (1993)

Her voice was the sound of shattered bone that never healed properly...
it was at some points fragile and at others more resolute than I remembered.

Skin covered in the ash of nostalgiathe weight of tempered memorythe howling heart a phoenix denied flight.

Yesterday's Rain...

and the ache that follows.

Her October Sky ( Lady 15 )

I was dreaming of you on northern roads

every sign post

every wrinkle of painted highway

pointed in your direction.

Soft Voices / Hard Static

White Noise Heaven

Lost Half Dream

Sentinel

A Walk Home...

Luna | Sola


.................................................... Venus | Longing
.
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.
. (I Love You Still)