Tag Archives: Christina Murphy

Frescos

silence rides in waves past the city that in moonlight shines almost violet pines shift with the winds patient as black holes in the empty sky, save for starlight in pinpricks and some odd sense of infinity hearts lost in … Continue reading

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Towel in the Throw

foolish penny, wise pound louder actions speak in words— you are button as a cute and I pieces to love you, oh, lonesome me! fonder makes the heart grow absence all that is not gold seldom glitters— a hole in … Continue reading

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Ars Moriendi

The summer light calls Ulysses home—the endless myth, the perpetual voyage, the pale fire of loss in our time. The falling man, seeking redemption, is no more than white noise in a handful of dust, as the sun rises in … Continue reading

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