Today, unchanged but not unmoved, I throw my child's fists into the air. Because his is music from the underworld, and that is a beautiful place to meet.
"She is a child and a mannequin and death. I can't hate that."
Sunday, November 27, 2011
Tensions
Heard this voice in a dark, crowded room and lost myself in a trance, or maybe I found some part of me. He plucked my resting hand from a swarm of limbs flown like kites through the darkness, they say to lure my body where my soul had been taken. Outrage ensued, though I am innocent.
Today, unchanged but not unmoved, I throw my child's fists into the air. Because his is music from the underworld, and that is a beautiful place to meet.
Today, unchanged but not unmoved, I throw my child's fists into the air. Because his is music from the underworld, and that is a beautiful place to meet.
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