My hands know the futility of trying to get acquainted with the darkness when I am in a place bereft of light.
So I make friends with the things it hides...
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
skip to main |
skip to sidebar
A Bright Clearing I AM.
There are worn-out circular paths around that bush. I can't help it... venturing off has always been my nature.
Blog Archive
-
▼
2007
(173)
-
▼
April
(15)
- Some Days.
- Though My Eyes Struggle.
- She Said.
- I Said.
- Was I A Mystery Hunter?
- Impasse.
- Hand Me My Batleth!
- Where The Wind Is Confined.
- This Thing That Goes All Ways.
- Sabi Ni Ning.
- To The Man Who Passed Through My Harp.
- Quintessence.
- It Is When Blood Profuses The Mind, Really.
- He Who Resides In Silence.
- Face Painting.
-
▼
April
(15)
No comments:
Post a Comment