Giuseppe Gillespie
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Glowsticks and glitter, Bodies swaying in strobe light. The beat mimics heart. Giuseppe Gillespie – October 2021
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Bicep curls and tri- cep extensions, a workout. The muscles growing. Giuseppe Gillespie – October 2021
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Overdue longing. I know you’re out there somewhere, watching the sunset. Giuseppe Gillespie – October 2021
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Richard Matheson’s 1954 novel essentially reignited the vampire genre and gave it a breath of fresh air, subverting the usual expectation of withered old blood suckers skulking around castles by bringing to light a new viewpoint: Humanity is the minority… Read the full review here.
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Foundation at fault, Liquorice asphalt lingers On pavement tumult. Giuseppe Gillespie – October 2021
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In the dead of night, when all other birds have slept, the midnight owl flits. Giuseppe Gillespie – October 2021
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You will know vengeance! Hark! Be still my dogs of war. Masked insanity. Giuseppe Gillespie – October 2021
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Just as a slanted roof slate is designed to reflect the flow of water without effort from corrupting the foundation, so too must we construct ourselves in a fashion whereby no evil can flow and the prejudices and ill-feeling of others are simply cast aside by our design. Giuseppe Gillespie – October 2021
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I’ve a funny feeling on my face. I don’t think it’s quite in the right place. These words you find on some line, as I’ve lost the use of mouth. Formulated in time by a mind whose metre is composed in doubt…
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Bountiful Goddess Nourishes All Her Domain. Life of Creation. Giuseppe Gillespie – October 2021
Giuseppe Gillespie Writing 