I am primitive and wingless

How do you read? and with what?

My lips pick up the rhythm and my heart sets them among the words in my heart, how lovely when they seem to echo, I echo back and feel valid. A life lived in silence and in the dark is never empty, the searching is a lighthouse facing the sea.

Jamaica Kincaid’s, At the Bottom of the River is a piece I will forever hold in my heart.

lethal delights the gods dare not assume…

from: Collected Poems | Edna St. Vincent Millay

1.Mortal Flesh, is not Your Place in the Ground 2. Two Voices 3. Moritus 4. Fountaine, Je Ne Boirai Pas De Ton Eau 5. But what importance, O my lovely girls 6. This should be simple…