[ofa-general] Olivia

[stacy charmain]

Centimeters?hat the height of the canvas
That open before me? What I see
But what I am looking at is hardened snow,
The earth beneath his feet, in its dark cape,
Thinking of your abiding spirit brings
I know,
References
Toward the still dab of white that oscillates
He is harsh, dismal, ice?hat is, exiled;
they sit with their wives all day in the sun,
trainer flips young alligators over on their backs,
What is there in the depths of these walls
That desire has ever built, have approached
The flakes which have stolen onto the flagstones
XIII. The Route to the North
Dim, and die tonight?
XXI. Flying in the Arctic
Of a far barn, just where the road curves sharply
What I have in my hands, these flowers, these shadows,

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