His breath: two small clouds on the puddled sounds of day, our spines pressed gently into lock. The several million...
Genesis 4:10 Forgive me, my brother; or do not. I’m sorry for envying your hands, the way they never failed...
It was snowing when I dialed, raining when I hung up, chaos even for me who mixes the chaff back...
For Balbir Singh Sodhi XXXXXXX Mornings spent always the same: your lips forming a line Like the horizon squeezing itself...