Her mop’s rhythmic stroke
A bondage unlike the kiss
Of sweet leather nights
Ryan Stone

too much coffee, too little sleep, a love of words…
Her mop’s rhythmic stroke
A bondage unlike the kiss
Of sweet leather nights
Ryan Stone

Oh, the wild places
Tattoo parlors, biker bars
Your lips in the night
Ryan Stone

Silent tears at dawn
My half-mast heart in tatters
London Bridge is down
Ryan Stone

In a dead soldier
The captive firefly’s slow death
Holds the night at bay
Ryan Stone

A widow slumbers
As red and blue fireflies weave
Swiftly through the night
Ryan Stone

After she left me
I stared at puddles so long
A rainbow appeared
Ryan Stone

Towering ghost gums
Never show inner turmoil
Until they tumble
Ryan Stone

Alone on the edge
One more tree in a forest
With no one to hear
Ryan Stone

The sound of his name
From lips that once whispered mine
Nails scrape a chalkboard
Ryan Stone
