My glittery trail
WINTER has moved off somewhere, writing its journals in ice. But I am still afraid to move, afraid to speak, as if I lived in a house wallpapered with the cries of birds I cannot identify. —Larry Levis
WINTER has moved off somewhere, writing its journals in ice. But I am still afraid to move, afraid to speak, as if I lived in a house wallpapered with the cries of birds I cannot identify.
—Larry Levis
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