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Miles and a moment’s ease flake away – the toddler shook us awake to ask When did Jesus paint our skin? Like memories of San Francisco we stayed a bit undusted, overlooking ourselves like silk-stranded ceiling corners. Bits of every epidermal surface flake away to pile in and around us. Cracked caulk and shower tile heap like moraine scree – not much room for the likes of a caricature plant, a euphorbia, or a firebush. Peter Bast lives and works…
Peter Bast
June 30, 2017