April snow. / God is waiting in the garden. / Slow as a blush,
snow shifts and settles on God. / On God’s bouquet. / The trees are white nerve nets.
ยท
April snow. / God is waiting in the garden. / Slow as a blush,
snow shifts and settles on God. / On God’s bouquet. / The trees are white nerve nets.
“The world is a strange place, almost unbearably so. And yet, it is the only place I have. And I’m not even entirely sure I have it.”
Brian Evenson