Illumination wrung from candles, late into the hollow evening. Pregnant plans aborted forcibly. Wrenching joy in the quiet hours of the stillbirth. A warm nest of a dozen filthy blankets, punctuated with scattered, scented pillows. Blonde braids strung like holiday lights across the sheets. Filigree strands gilding the dreams. The rapture of simple trysts is undeterred. Despite deific conspiracy of some elaborate cosmic joke.
12:20 a.m. - 2019-05-22
Recent entries:
Frog and Scorpion - 2019-06-06
Sarcomancy - 2019-06-05
Hollow Repose - 2019-05-29
Springwaters - 2019-05-29
What Should Have Been Pleasant - 2019-05-22
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