The Hanging Man By the roots of my hair some god got hold of me. I sizzled in his blue volts like a desert prophet. The nights snapped out of sight like a lizard's eyelid : A world of bald white days in a shadeless socket. A vulturous boredom pinned me in this tree. If he were I, he would do what I did. - S. P.
la perspectiva de @any .gypsy
la noche a través del ojo de @therattkiller