I would send you the horizon folded in the crease of this page. Now a gesture of sea that rushes from it, now the deep bow of sky toward it. Home resides in this line between, holding its open gaze. September 2020
I would send you the horizon folded in the crease of this page. Now a gesture of sea that rushes from it, now the deep bow of sky toward it. Home resides in this line between, holding its open gaze. September 2020