Afterfeel: Another World Beneath My Eyelids. {poetry}
In this world, there is my golden city and there is its womb being torn open and bursting... There is screaming. In it is a cold August.
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Perla Tsoler Kantarjian
In Retreat as Collateral Damage. {poetry}
My fire? All sucked off me alongside my verve, my royalty. I have nothing left but bulging bones and thoughts in the foreground of my evanesced presence.
To the Modern Wild Woman.
We are creatures of the wild. Our presence holds a mighty power without which the cycle of birth and rebirth could not go on.