Jenne’ R. Andrews: Of Thanatos, the Footman
Naked you were luminous and all my cells photographed you, stayed with me all these years. But there was a shadow to that beauty. When we are older we acquire … Continue reading
October 28, 2015 · Leave a comment
John Keats: This Living Hand
. This living hand, now warm and capable Of earnest grasping, would, if it were cold And in the icy silence of the tomb, So haunt thy days and chill … Continue reading
June 18, 2015 · Leave a comment
