my world
my world
a tiny place
without language
without race
a tiny place
without language
without race
posted by The Bean Bag Chair at 7:52 PM
Sometimes with rhyme, sometimes with reason - words spin in my mind and spill out onto paper. Writing has been a medium of dealing with so many things in my life - and has taken seasons of its own. Some of this stuff has been dug up from forever ago...some of it newly birthed. I'll leave that for you to figure out!
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