a splash of violence, of blood pouring like rain upon me. words are so powerful and create spacial distance. i move. there are spiders in me; in the hollow of my arm where it is still joined to my body; yet my arm moves to protect the growing woman who was once aged five witha family of rosy-faces dolls with beautiful eyes and dark sweeping lashes which permitted and beautified sleep. and there was a nodule, like a compass, sewn in their bellies, and pressure there encouraged their mouths to speak.....
scented gardens for the blind.
