It Was Only In The Mire That We Met
Dec
17
They lay down beside me
I made my confession to them
they touched both my eyes
I touched the dew on their hem
If your life is a leaf
that the seasons tear off and condemn
they will bind you with love
that is graceful and green as a stem
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A mixture of reblogs and posts about literature, poetry, quotations, cyborgs, radical technology, queer theory, fascinating erotica, invitations to duel, images of note and whatever else I feel like.
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