Nothing can cup my slipping heel but me.
Sentences are cultivated in action,
And mine can be spoken by none but me.
The moon meets a calf in the owing purple
By the light.
And I hear its' caustic chorus. Nothing--however
Could behave as I do when I am liberated.
Name That Trauma:: Reader Lorraine: on a Lady Running Around Screaming While Burning Alive - This has been driving me nuts. It’s been practically forever, and I still cannot find what movie this scene was from. It’s the only scene I remember from t...
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