She calmly approached him,
while he was carving a wooden bird...
The head chairs meetings
voices creep...
Amongst the fleeting clouds up high
where wings of the sparrow spread open wide...
When home is calling my name
my heart is aching for this old place...
His knife slowly went through the corners,
as he carefully carved broken crayons...
Who will comfort me
when I'm dead...
No pain meds for me,
he told me, I want to know...
The quality of time
and the treatment...
To the man
who tore his lovers...
2010 Chile's mining accident
It is a transcending triumph...
Her hands
trembling...
I write like no one's reading
Like they won't see me bleeding...