Perhaps
to twist the wire and drive the posts

is indicative of
our pastures
harsh treatment

with untitled castle

(beating death)

mocking mother


tonight is tonight left forever

we make our pilgrimage a pilgrimage


with the many parts that make up our bones

mere stones slapped together by weather

mere shapes designed with glory

my French counterpart (done) with me

a selfish

FEMALE

bewildered with heart in sack

finished my

mix of tools for grandpa

to build fence with

to twist the wire and drive the posts