Ronan Quinn

Sunken without you. Tears of ice fall to the dry ground, tear ducts frozen over, a thaw yet to commence, slippery and cold to the touch...

The trees sway in the wind, I turn to feel a touch on my shoulder. A mutual fund for grey skies, nurturing a capacity for sadness,...

You have an essence that I will go and get. As you think of me, so I do of you, a hanging calm, not settled yet, I take hold of your...