Yes is a world and in this world of yes live all worlds e. Listening to the Small Voice. November 19, 2010 by Emily. I did that thing again. That thing where you let yourself be dictated by a sense of shoulds. By a sense that if someone were watching your life, there are certain things you should do. By a sense that the story, should you tell it to someone else, would sound better if you did certain things.

After your shin, a perfect line, sharp. And coarse, the unctuous sheets. Slide A sparrow slides, in hand. Stab my hand, sparrow. I only want the beak. She stretches, black and wet. The sand scratches her body. She eats her home by moving,. She does not eat the living. That seep of blood is seeping. This fresh of death is moving. She eats the death and cold. My heart is only seeming.

Wednesday, 6 October 2010. A nice remix of the Boom Bi.