We had the month of May, once.
We had the month of May, once. Pretty gal from Italy told him by the Monterey Bay, the pipe dream poet, he isn’t poetry, he isn’t love, he is cursed, cursed to live… Continue reading
We had the month of May, once. Pretty gal from Italy told him by the Monterey Bay, the pipe dream poet, he isn’t poetry, he isn’t love, he is cursed, cursed to live… Continue reading