Member-only story
Winter’s meditative light
tips over the horizon like
honey in a jar turned upside
down. I stand near the side
of the window, forcing myself
to dream. Aquinas in the
moonlight. No one is free.
Member-only story
Winter’s meditative light
tips over the horizon like
honey in a jar turned upside
down. I stand near the side
of the window, forcing myself
to dream. Aquinas in the
moonlight. No one is free.