“We are writers, my love. We don’t cry. We bleed on paper.” – A.Y.

A thousand minds live within

A thousand voices raised in outcry

Seeking an outlet, seeking escape

Seeking a fixed space through the in-between

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The page is their wide open

Their meadow, pasture, prairies

Their sky, their blue, their clouds above

A field of wildflowers with every newborn world

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My tears and my blood and my sleepless nights

All seeds in this strange sowing

A magic, a darkness, a spiritual bloodletting

Beyond this world, and into the next ~ Caroline A. Slee