november 20

i see your life entire; you stand on holy fire and are cooled.


november 3

i walked through a place where i did not belong, and i saw things that i thought were wrong. but i could not speak, for i imagined i did not have the right; it was my silence that cost the lives of those who longed for one who would speak for them. it was my fear that left their days dark and their nights nerved. to think it was not i who stood to lose, is to bury useless shame in the gravel of their graves. but to grovel is no use when the damage done is damage dealt, breath blown and money spent.


these are the days when the passing of memes across the webbed expanse of our internet constitutes a warm, joyful, public relationship, in the cold knowledge that a forgotten tag simply says no, there is nothing here.