December 2010
1 post
Rasa.
Once more I am spiraling back to that place of ending that is beginning, an infinite snake choking on her tail. The half-healed weals and barely borne burdens - layers of peeling paint on a steel frame - seem to fade as the long hand hits the twelve. Rewind. Reset. Reframe.
What if I sanded down the rough edges and put on a fresh coat, covered over the tells and history with something pleasantly...