And it was only much later, at college about the dinner, all these adversities came on—scourges our Lord would ask for mercy, and lit the interior of the ladies’ bodily penance, and the desire that she had, and began to clean [ ] the sort as shall be told hereafter.
Read MoreAll borders are porous, by these powers combined, and life is right
fucking strange enough as it is without your having
to understand what you could never understand.
What's the use of even talking about it?
There was something barren
In the chemical trail, flat
Basalt pathway clear
Of any trace of human
Life
With a grunt and stems that curled around them, the charge of the carcass, the shadow of a young prince’s wound.
Read MoreListen, you’re safe now.
Inshallah, breathe easier—
It is all for the kiln - the gown as discreetly
and secretly brought every night in her bed
and wore her down—burnt.
!['Wuthering Heights: Book Six - The Book of [ ]', by D.M. Rice](https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/59aef3bacd39c38dabcb0dc2/1694085270042-N4N7X2TIRGK9TOU7PVX2/pexels-nitin-arya-1029141.jpg)
