While the Cathedral Burns

What I remember of the Cathedral:

a towerful of steps before I had my own;

dress and satchel shed beneath the bell;

how freedom & vulnerability can coexist;

her big, brown eyes as she studied me.

Recent Posts

For my friend on the occasion of her wedding. What I know of mirrors is their imperfection, their imbalance of mathematics: one reflects...

For my friend on the occasion of his wedding. No eye for art, you said, and turned toward Hunger, livid color leaving you cold, neither...

It is not Death that watches us with suspicion, yet you invoke Her name anyway, make of Her a boundary, make of me an earthen intimacy....