I’m done with soft snow falling on the battlefield; the symbols that make nice with senseless dying. My love, I need you desperately. The branches of dead trees scrape the darkened windows. My love, I need you now.
l I call to you, I call to you: the child, the children; the moments we were so alive and without thought. The magic of moments; the curtains that moved with the night; the curtains that promised all fear and protection at times. The witch and the teeth and the moments of praying. The gathering [...]