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The Labyrinth Keeper

by on Aug 29, 2016 in Poetry | 0 comments

I tend to this place like my father did, polish the marble at the outer walls, water plants and clean the painted facades of pots and vases, frescos and stone collages. I’ve never laid eyes on the lord in the middle, though a few times I’ve come close – heard dry breath forced from acrid...

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The Doctor’s Assistant

by on Jan 15, 2016 in Poetry | 0 comments

Grandma gave my first needle, taught me to sew, showed me how to knit threads together, make something new, nimble fingers silhouetting the divine. It came in handy white-uniformed at the front, dragging broken men from the mud, pulling flaps of flesh together with thread, then sending...

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