saulvab

Water your camels.” I swear, my hands each on a Bible, the only evidence admissible is invisible. At twenty, I was lost in the snow, a sleigh bell Chaos is not a “sometime thing,” its face and back are turned to and from us, what I cannot see is beautiful, or an isthmus that connects almost nothing to almost nothing — the great unless, either/or. I grab on to metaphor,