selected readings from the gospel of rory.
Your birthday scar, kissed my hand. You are a star, and I depend.
What if I were
to lose my inhibition,
growing tired
of casting empty wishes
to a whore.
She parts the sea, briefly, allowing it to breathe. And satisfied she returns to sewing the earth.
We could be, as a city on a hill.
What if I were
to lose my inhibition,
growing tired
of casting empty wishes
to a whore.
She parts the sea, briefly, allowing it to breathe. And satisfied she returns to sewing the earth.
We could be, as a city on a hill.