What haven’t we found
lurking in the bright meadows
because we’re more apt to scour
the long, draining night?
The slums of faded parchments
have less to fear now,
their faces never slated to grow
the lines that would wrinkle their brow
and make them memorable.
When flowers aren’t cared for
they Continue reading
Whenever a book moves me so thoroughly that it becomes an instant favourite the moment I close the back cover, I am compelled to sit down and write a review to sing its praises. With the Sculptor, I’d initially just sat here speechless, absorbing how remarkable of a read-in-a-single-sitting book it is. But now I know how to explain how positively it affected me. Continue reading