Curling inward like the fern but brown and bent and dead. Bent within and ever in to live for self in sin – We turn in-to that we might seek a way away from outward stares or help that’s sought, to give and see a rescue path away from me – For air is hard, […]Read more "Incurvatus In Se"
Sometimes all the lights go out or make us to believe that they were never really there. You stumble into every wall and trip and fall again. You hear the snickers all around the sounds but not the sights of everybody watching you. – Sometimes every song goes out an arrow in the air that […]Read more "Sometimes…"