after poverty the night opens up— a shift dress is a vessel of new letters in silver— though I fished here I was once a saint of light— where the two meet, there’s a suture— Oh! Laura Carter lives…
after poverty the night opens up— a shift dress is a vessel of new letters in silver— though I fished here I was once a saint of light— where the two meet, there’s a suture— Oh! Laura Carter lives…