mark Posted June 16, 2020 The Red Spot, its scab lending a ruby hue, blood from epochs seemingly diffused. The Lost child wonders in the dark, wonders for the lantern. Was it ever? Always? Alas Anon indicates, no point, no compass, nothing to stake. The rose enclosed, engulfing all prismatic rays. Venus awaits, does her trap lend an escape? Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
