something goes dying.
Something with the wings of a bird, something of anguish and oblivion.
The way nets cannot hold water.
-- Pablo Neruda, Poem XIII from Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair
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Bronze Tongue, Tuned Lip, Decorative Belts on the Skirt
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2007
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July
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- Woodcut Prints
- Word of the Week is:
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July
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About Me
Much Ado About Nothing
Don Pedro
Your silence most offends me, and to be merry best becomes you; for, out of question, you were born in a merry hour.
Beatrice
No, sure, my lord, my mother cried; but then there was a star danced, and under that was I born.
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