The Maze Bull How she squats as though to shit, but instead delivers me: mossy spine, incipient horns-- like a boy's dry nipples--above my eyes. * Sometimes he loves me: goading me with the bobbed sword or watching me struggle up the beach, my hooves cutting into the sand even as my brain cries "foot." * Nearer here to heaven than you might think: spiralling walls, though I cover no distance; sudden pairs of guests, clean and unclean; a thousand torches. The afternoon sun reflected off the lenses of a fly.
Cooper Esteban Index
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