Hestia circles an idea: I will be better if I am better read if my Soul is improved If littlehouse, perfectly kept, live off nothing, I neverwork I work, all day like a nun or a devotional in newholy cycle, sun to dust, no shifts no kepthours. he says, I did not know you feltlike… Continue reading poem: draft. pt 2.
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i could be bound in a nutshell and count it as infinite space if not for these bad dreams
the last pavilion 