My mouth is a Moorish gate of rhinestones and piercings and spikes.
Our stones shear, like our religions, whose fall so near. There’s the catch, the shiver, the beg for a river. Continue reading
Our stones, they shear, they sheer like our religions.
god is a bee without a chair, v0 I believe in birds , not bees , nor wasps , nor Continue reading
Fortify now: You have lost your astrolabe and cast adrift where souls find no purchase … sent to the middle Continue reading
Dove of peace if i were but a dove of peace i’d sit on the left hand of my found Continue reading
Sisters if i were but a sister of mercy i’d have no disgrace in this death of bed if i Continue reading
were the sickening of swallows nowlet us go to church my friend you and i spread out against the sky Continue reading