stay away

“She’s coming,” groaned Edward, “in less than a month, my freedom, so hard won, so unexpectedly enjoyed, discovering the beauty of life in this, my moments, my home, my music, my son, all will soon be lost, in one fell swoop the minute she walked in the joint the dove of freedom flies away on wings of gold, searching for some other soul to bless with open fields, wide spaces, the eternal quiet of a man unencumbered by feminine tyranny, oh, please, let her stay away.”

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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