It's summer and every white ink blot of jasmine is wordless as bone. I can feel winter leaving my body but I'm holding on like a skeleton. I wrote these lines at the turn of the season, and like a spell I had come to live them: The miracle of love i… Read on blog or Reader Eunoia Review Read on blog or Reader Internet cafe perfectsublimemasters April 5 It's summer and every white ink blot of jasmine is wordless as bone. I can feel winter leaving my body but I'm holding on like a skeleton. I wrote these lines at the turn of the season, and like a spell I had come to live them: The miracle of love is that it leaves […] Read more of this post Comment Like You can also reply to this email to leave a comment.

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