Author: Samantha Wright
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Pulse
How do we read stardust in fine print? How can we find silence within a constant chorus of speech and penitence? I hear only the uncertainty of two a.m. I see only the life of a dauntless troubadour, searching through the shadows and singing in riddles. You, the seeker of yes, a purveyor…
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Split Apart
Ash shall mark my forehead; my lips shall feast upon stone— Lest fragments of breath fill me up; I’ll be cold and as dusty as bone. Let wine wet my forehead, let scales seal my eyes, let my hair be tangled in name— Let life bring me verses of hearts recognized; ignited twin spirits of…
