Two turtle doves will show thee Where my cold ashes lie And sadly murmuring tell thee How in tears I did die
“Now, here is the point about the self: it is insatiable. It is always, always hankering. It is what you might call rapacious to a fault. The great flaming mouth to the thing is never in this world going to be stuff full.”
Donald Barthelme
INSTAGRAM
BANDCAMP
YOUTUBE