shot glass
"... brevity is the soul of wit ..."
- William Shakespeare

Lois Marie Harrod

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Sexing the Sky

The white hand hides
inside the deep.

The older woman
tries to sing Isolde.

You say I shouldn't weep,
sorrow destroys.

You say, but, of course,
we die, as if it were nothing.

Once I was skin and tears.
Before that, a clean parchment.