{stone cliffs} gregg murray Stone cliffs muscular as childhood, the way childhood gets hit with sunset, the way childhood gets dark near corridors, the way childhood gets sled red along waters. I have been lilygreen struck at soft passages. I have had a blue corona, archwhite smattered with rays, blank and cannibalistic as regret. And regret can be stainwashed, ekphrastic. Right? Anyone? Fine, then. How many fingers am I holding up? |