April hides in a wing where a duck tucks his green head, mourning’s night long still and you haven’t felt yet what sun can
A flock of doves condensed into vestments.
All of winter stood before the people,
disguised as a man with a pleasant singing voice.
Candles were lit behind
From far away, you see the awful truth of me and do not flinch. How unpleasant all these years to be warehouse for my
I know you’ve seen this all along. This has nothing to do with the way the earth gathers beneath fingernails. You’ve been watching the
