ST. JOHN CHAPTER EIGHT, VERSE SIX
threaten scents + hunt him
pun wily fall. hid.
unedited struggle
mesas of caveat
Hear The Look and
deny much broomstick
tho sharp, him half understands herself
Oh you, so his speaks weeps between hers
ST. JOHN CHAPTER EIGHT, VERSE EIGHT
once more
the bitterest foe
a caged lion for the sake of
the old loaded suspicions -- afterwards,
an interlude:
sisters | little mother | the letter | the
ice of old loaded suspicions
has swans in the back of its face
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