coxendix
Saturday, April 10, 2010
To begin at the beginning:
It is spring, moonless night in the small town, starless and bible-black, the cobblestreets silent and the hunched, courters'-and-rabbits' wood limping invisible down to the sloeblack, slow, black, crowblack,
fishingboat-bobbing sea
.
1 comment:
Anonymous said...
when she smiles is there dimples?
3:05 pm
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1 comment:
when she smiles is there dimples?
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