yet sometimes fails at protecting a butterfly.
Actually, it's light which edits. Ask any poem.
Ask a candle how it sweetens and/or makes savory
a meal.
Angles on the story seem to harden and cut through the mush. We are all at once seeing what should not be visible-- a softer palate, a sinuous suggestion of the netherworld, some shriek of the hawk as she circles the truth. Once warmed, the hand reaches out again for its solace, the gesture at once familiar and new to the other person across the table.
Angles on the story seem to harden and cut through the mush. We are all at once seeing what should not be visible-- a softer palate, a sinuous suggestion of the netherworld, some shriek of the hawk as she circles the truth. Once warmed, the hand reaches out again for its solace, the gesture at once familiar and new to the other person across the table.
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