Deprivation by MYRYN VILLAFLOR [they slither, and they hisslike talking serpents , as they passthrough those discarded streets]his head's a sanctuary of sounds,where he would hear his father sing...
Category: EvanescentMoon
Passenger Seat by MYRYN VILLAFLOR There's a rush between the many folds of my flesh; like a fast, upbeat love song in an afternoon ride. -Never ending- a lithe man inside, clad in...
I Know Some Lonely House by MYRYN VILLAFLOR Over the rigid and dreary mountains, down by the riverside, amidst withered stalks of stalwart weeds, and murmuring leaves of pallid colors piled on...
Trampoline by MYRYN VILLAFLOR I am the dot that ends all my written worries, doubts and insecurities, in the palm of my diary, many a time trapped between mottoes and ironies like a burrow of...
Seraphina [The Stigma Of Your Eyes] by MYRYN VILLAFLOR She came to me like an apparition; white hot, clad in a wreath of lilies and a girdle of pearls around her waist a dream keeper that:...
Where Wild Violets Grow by MYRYN VILLAFLOR There's something nostalgic about dimly-lit roads and faded footpaths, rickety lamp posts and over-shadowing tree trunks, as though, they exude...