What does she think?I can't say,the way she sinks into her seatpulling at the edgeof an admiral's pea coat.The way she blowspink sugar into a balloona..
At the birth of fallsummer birdsdot the spread wingsof our shared pavilion,our paradise of whispers,where every quietedprayer eludes Atlas' grip.Endur..
Our armstanglelike tribal tattoosthat convey a people,our nationhood.Every patternpurposefullike smoke coilingfrom a well stoked pipeleft to coolby th..
I push her curly red hairaway from her eyes,the ghosts of my grandfatheracting through genetics.Her freckles are so numerousthey would cover the skyif..
They bow and touchlips to stone.Salty soup leaking steamlike smoke from an altarin the gold star driven nightsover the glowing flamesof an old Russian..