Below the diamond shaped cloudsof a Tug Hill sunset, lying next to hisdog, with soft fingers asleep inside two heart shaped patches, where the moon barely creeps in and hissweet olive black eyes said goodnightonce or twice already. You probably kissed my forehead and looked at mewith that look you will never see yourself. George Cassidy Payne is […]
Tea House: Interviews, Commentary, Reviews, Poetry & Prose