Smoked Blood and Lavender

At the dark edge of all we experience, in the hidden corners of life and love, work and play, something bittersweet and sinister roils and swirls, a scent of fading flowers and tangy corruption. Join poet Diana Elizondo as she takes you on a tour through moonlit shadows toward the ruins that smolder silent in the human heart. In her verse you will find that winding trail amid the darkling trees, marked only by wreaths of smoked blood and lavender.