Paradoxical Karma
Family sorrow is my puffy bags, on my hooded lids, from way back, but it's ok, I'm not stopping. Skin sags under this feeble chin, connecting to pictures in black and white, where poses suppressed their reality, but it's ok, I will continue. Heaviness the sentence of my stance, grinding hip sockets, a weak abdomen, my age suddenly doubled, but that's fine, I am not backing off from their call. Pain throbs in random places, and vague aches refuse to...
