I am baptised in silk.
Grace-bound and breathless.
Seeds sewn from the
mouth of sorrow.
This bruise of blooming
and the frailty of moonlight.
A silent blessing.
blooming · poem 1
I am baptised in silk.
Grace-bound and breathless.
Seeds sewn from the
mouth of sorrow.
This bruise of blooming
and the frailty of moonlight.
A silent blessing.