Sunday, October 7, 2012
The Shaman's Lonesome Vigil
It starts with a drip, a single solitary drop, one tear gliding effortlessly down a ruddy cheek to plunge from protruding chin, taking that last leap as a diver from a cliff wall, heralding the arrival of so many more tears. It begins with just one, which fragments into the multitude like splinters of reflective glass made from the fall of a single mirror from the vanity face. The Tequihua
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