Benedict Grant

Nocturne

no no no he doesnt mean it he only says those things when hes been youknowwhat now close your eyes and count the sheep and sshhh hes here pretend youre asleep sshhhhhh

the shadow that comes  
to kiss us goodnight . . .  
whisky sour   

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About the Author

Benedict Grant hails from Scotland and currently lives in Nova Scotia, Canada. His poems have appeared in bottle rockets, Kingfisher, and Akitsu Quarterly, amongst other journals.