| these_years_are_years_of_grace | ||
| blueberries |
you fly from flower to flower with taped on wings, beaded necklace catching the dying light of summer's last sun. i see this in my memory, closing my eyes, rolling in this pile of fallen leaves. now. alone. please call me before winter, when the distance between us freezes, jesus, i am trembling beside the phone. |
011126 |