we who live in houses of clay
on Chanina's pyre
just the parchment was consumed
the letters flew free
just the parchment was consumed
the letters flew free
Labels: death, religion, transience
posted by levinebar at 9:18 PM
seventeen syllables / is all you can cram into / such a tiny screen
Labels: death, religion, transience
posted by levinebar at 9:18 PM
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