Life inside the hourglass.
Obsidian globes in the sky.
Tiny fragments.
Fingers to the heavens, heels to the earth.
Enveloped in vertigo.
posted by liz @ 6:35 PM
Nothin to see here, move along...
About Me
- Name: liz
- Location: a2, mi
Your technique is magnificent. When cut across the neck, a sound like wailing winter winds is heard, they say. I'd always hoped to cut someone like that someday, to hear that sound.
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Monday, December 06, 2010
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