the closer, 1912
flies in my gutfire like a leechin my facethe wind marching against mein this dark half yearand everywhere is north nothing left ofsummer and winterno betweena scattering of worldup thereoutside… Continue Reading
flies in my gutfire like a leechin my facethe wind marching against mein this dark half yearand everywhere is north nothing left ofsummer and winterno betweena scattering of worldup thereoutside… Continue Reading