the names / were assigned to me
the cross i bear is heavier than light
a whisper, a hush / murmured devotion so shy the wind means to snatch it from us
The Sword
Between my ribs a sword is thrust. It goes in below the heart and comes out at the backside of the opposite hip. I can’t recall when it went in, but it must be some time ago now.
Echoes in the Hall
excuses for late homework written on equally worn out sofas, skipped class and patch totals.