lateness of living

A music crescendo enlivened the scene like bohemian absinthe poured brilliant green from the sugar to inspire the creative mind late in the lateness of living, serving some unspoken goal, giving space some time to adjust. Whispers along the water’s edge, craven, misshapen misery sheltered our fears from a storm of thoughtless passion cavorting in the miserable.

Lord Malinov, Song of Songs

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About Lord Malinov

Lord Malinov, literary author, bon vivant, rogue romantic poet
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