MY INK IS THIN…(a valentine offering of sor…my quill is blunt, / dipped in holy water / from heart’s inkwell
Let’s not talk about the cold.In the play for today, do we really know who is reading who’s line?
Hymn of the vagrantstripped down to the hull / bones jabbing…and bare ash / grey spray into the atmosphere / I….on my knees / my fingers trace hollow / acros…
hymn to the mater dolorosaall hail the queen of heaven / born a goddess / then made human / sanctified by men
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