A Story – Eduard Dantes

There’s a sentence

Wherein I’d like to put a full stop:

Right in the middle;

Such that it would make no sense


There’s a paragraph

So obscure

It deserves closure,


Pages that need

To be finished,

Prayed over

And buried


But I haven’t the courageous heart

To make that first and final





his name rhymes with ‘mince’. He’s rarely without a notebook and can usually be found next to the closest bottle of red wine. Previously a writer for The Roehampton Lane Journal.

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