before it was a metaphor First scrape fat from skin, turn to sun what never felt light, in vitriol bathe open wounds, sear to
before it was a metaphor First scrape fat from skin, turn to sun what never felt light, in vitriol bathe open wounds, sear to
after lines from Cesare Pavese’s “Grappa in September” Her problem, of course, is that she was never a child, and so hadn’t the opportunity
The pears I bought and put in the glass bowl are cinnamon stick red and rough. Pleasurable it is, the cutting them up and
