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(a leaky bit of moonlight) under a dark-haired driven threadbare quilted sky, driven bursts of clawing breath and the muted cry of unglazed small -boned crows dreaming murder, death – muffled blooms and fretful sleep. .. Cool visual … Continue reading
… See me? Gray hair flowing in the breeze, listening for the quiet song that still makes the world go ’round? That window there’s my favorite of all my places, all these heart -traces, cobbled homes I’ve tumbled from … Continue reading