Tag Archives: absence
The only voice of hers I know is in my head, frozen to an untouched form, lying, bedwarmed, in gravity’s stead. Advertisements
At the small, time-worn cafe, the woman in the bell-shaped hat of crushed green velvet, palms warmed by the chipped enamel mug of dark coffee, this woman, setting adrift a gondola of words to cross the unsayable, reaching, with grave … Continue reading
If, by chance or mistake, I have given you inscrutable glyphs, it is only because I, the translator, struggle mightily and mostly fail to translate the parts of me gone missing.