Faded indigo,
Whispered constellations glow,
Honey stained by smoke.
Went to see the Mark Lanegan Band at Shepherds Bush, with the Bossman. Great gig. I’m inspired to write a Haiku about Lanegan and his music (and his hands). Do you think it sounds like I love him? Well, I guess I do, a little bit, in a chest bump, knuckle tap way.
(photo source is noisebloc)
