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1.
Crossing My Words
Shaping
The Words
Blue
Rhythms
Green
Chair
Love
Poem
Laying
Lines
Für
Elise
Awaiting
Your Reply
A
Suicide Letter Because
The
Sky's Gone Out
Fäith
Mourns A Dead
Language
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Fäith Mourns
A Dead Language
misplaced Fäith
finds home in gutters on gray rainy days and sits transcribing mandinka
as best she can from the runes in a tattered black book of verse--once
her's her father's and his father's before him--but the rain sheets
down washing characters from each page in rivulets of old ink old
lead old tears 'till she can't quite discern the hand can't quite
hold the words anymore.
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