Aiming for a creative life

I Am Santo

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Awake. Moonlight assaults and cold, so cold and shaking. Maybe from the air. Maybe from the sin of still caring. Carried there to here on the creaking stretcher of consciousness and delivered, sweating, breathing fast into now; horrific now, the creeping, inky unfathomable space of drowning above the surface. Hands pull, never tearing, but crushing […]

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