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ceramics | imagined corners | material woman

 

how do women walk

between me and my sister

open end

dry tears

coming round again

things not worth keeping

 

At the round earth's imagin'd corners, blow
Your trumpets, Angells, and arise, arise
From death, you numberlesse infinities
Of soules, and to your scattered bodies goe
                        
                                        
john donne - holy sonnets

still alive

weeping woman

give me a call

blue moon

imagined corners

below the surface