When you’ve slept, not enough but just enough that every further minute you might sleep has particular and small substantive weight like one last
Where I recite the names of the dead in my family before praying the rosary in sotto voce. The dead are thorns stuck in
More than 500,000 Dead, February 21, 2021 Today, this newsprint is smiting daggers of names and faces—The copy mining them like old daguerreotypes