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It was hard to look back .. for hot desert sands were stinging her eyes .. quickly obscuring aging parents .. waving forlornly from the terminal ... It was hard to cry .. for the three year old .. abducted and murdered .. now decaying in a corner of the family vault.
I didn't have much hope. Soon I would be 50. Love was fitful and glorious and painful. There will always be thugs in caves murdering children and crowing. But we are capable of creating wonders beyond our imagination every second of the game.
Look at her, at the child cradled across her arm, replete in milky sleep, perfectly composed; At how her fingers fuss over his perfumed skin, The cool heal of her palm.
You can't have your cake if it's eaten. Or your cooked goose if it's no good for a gander. Golden eggs are useless in a fragile economy. And what goes up must keep going.
Eve isn't sorry that she bit .. into the temptation of the fruit ... She had bloomed. Ripened; tasted truth.
Go and open the door .. stare at the bright blue sea .. for boats .. struggling southwards from Sri Lanka and Afghanistan. .. Feel the rippling fear of refugees .. wondering if supplies will last .. or a hand reach out .. or turn and lock the door.
Lost — Waiting for Spring — God owes me Royalties — Niche — Folding & Flying — Judas and Jezebel — Donne captains a ship of fools — Home — Loose Change — election
The earth and its mortal crust .. Like our own skin .. Covers something .. Which at one point .. Was not .. And in some distant point .. Far beyond this evening .. Will no longer be
somewhere, .. on a dusty stump .. or parched rock ... far from here on the road inside myself .. patiently fanning flies .. and hoping that I'll have the heart .. to travel on and not look back.
Definitely simian features beneath those whiskers ... definitely a great big hairy chest .. Beneath that stiff Victorian coat.
as she lies there, somehow she feels time creeping — some inchoate sense, sense of the Grim Reaper reaping with his scathing scythe, or Father Time with a sieve ...
it’s a god of sugar, a god of shallow forgives, it’s a god of stained truth and glass asunder.
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