I envy the way you enjoy life so intensely. Can we trade skins and lay our burdens down at the foot of the bed? Everything stays the same in this letter to you. We’ve repeated patterns of words and anger and words and tears and words the same way for quite some time. Break apart the skull and glance in, I think something is jammed.
All artwork, photos, and text © Copyright 2008-2009 Liliana Almendarez unless indicated otherwise. All Rights Reserved. Any downloading, copying or use of images on this website is strictly prohibited without express written consent by Liliana Almendarez.
Monday, April 13, 2009
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
There's grief of want, and grief of cold,--
ReplyDeleteA sort they call 'despair,'
There's banishment from native eyes,
In sight of native air.
And though I may not guess the kind
Correctly yet to me
A piercing comfort it affords
In passing Calvary,
To note the fashions of the cross
Of those that stand alone
Still fascinated to presume
That some are like my own.