Strand by strand
Piece by piece
Your calico house
Slowly. Then quickly. Unwinds, unravels.
Once your palace, your bastion,
surrounded by the trilling of birdsong
And the deep humming of the earth
It is empty now, and threadbare
We try flames and quiet vigil
Prayers, hopes, guttural desperate desires
Whispered to the weighty confidences of your pillows
That...
Continue reading...