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.
Issue 07 · poem 3
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.