Monday, November 29, 2021

 the print is stained and on fabric it settles heavy. fabric seams are holy.

, I cant leave her, I would never. I look up and see textile ceiling reaching down to hold me. 



there is this time, after dinnerscene


Days passes, I have held her close always; storm passes with heavy rain, I reside elsewhere.

There lies a large bedroom with wooden walls and wooden floor; someplace I had not been before.

Algid howls air past windows; yesterday’s steam ran away.

My room holds me high; as said, wooden floorboards hold my weight.

Garden admires her I see; 

I can see her, even from afar.









 spider passed

spider has pass-ed

spider passing























- Lou

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