“Cancer, stage IV”- neck axilla chest abdomen groin Quiet as a graveyard winter, they forget to breathe; waxen figures, lined foreheads As for me, I try to force acceptance between shallow inspirations. The consultant speaks, his eyes…
“Cancer, stage IV”- neck axilla chest abdomen groin Quiet as a graveyard winter, they forget to breathe; waxen figures, lined foreheads As for me, I try to force acceptance between shallow inspirations. The consultant speaks, his eyes…
Because of what you are, you cannot sin but merely err.
Though I would speak the truth to all my brothers— Papered words, oh reckless birds, begin to fly.