Praying with Fringes 12/02/2014 – the space at the center of everything

Firewood Chana Bloch When you sawed a branch from the pine tree the white sky submerged us, a clear fluid without memory, and I kept missing it, kept going out to look as the tongue returns to the space between two teeth. Put it back! I said, but the branch was already a pile of … Continue reading Praying with Fringes 12/02/2014 – the space at the center of everything