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{jesus crucified} kristen vinci rests upon his cross at the zenith, casting his shadow over walls the color of Scolecite needles, of ivory, of whitewash. The sea carrying breeze cannot mask the scent-marked, faded, blue checked sheets. White Coat prognoses do not bend like scoliosis backbones; there will be no daybreak, no sun against her cheek, no warmth to wake the flowers drowning in their vessels. |
