No one knows me at all, probably because I was born upon a dark hill in tones of pink and yellow, curdled and dripping from corner to corner. She adopted me as dog two weeks later. It’s all I can think about all the time. And now I fear she might try to throw herself at me like a few stray phrases from Ovid or Homer.
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Authorrunning the whole length of the horizon... Archives
August 2018
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