The progress, if any, could not be called spiritual.
Those were days made entirely of dusk.
Those were days that wasted themselves.
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In Defense of Marriage
Marry the black horse stuck Dumb in her humble corral. Marry the white fences; marry the fenceless Moon and the defenceless sky. Already have an account? Log in Join KR […]
Dime Store Erotics
By Ann Townsend
The dim gift store shimmers with candy bars and cheap key chains swinging. The night bus checks out at nine; you can still climb on board if you abandon the […]
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