‘All we need now is skin.’
Splitting Hairs
‘…and my beloved to me, who feedeth among the lilies’
Our Lady of Anchors
A loser’s prayer
Goodbye, Seattle (epilogue)
Written on a train. There’s no middle.
Images
Contra mundi
Red
b. 1945 d. 2018
Angel of the AM, II
“And you, when you were dead in your offences…”
Hyazinth 