Every Letter Was A Love

Scars Crossed Her Welded Wrists.

It Was Something Every Child Knew How To Do, Maintain A Direct And Full Connection With The World. Somehow You Forgot About It As You Grew Up, And Had To Learn It Again.

It Was Morning By The Clock But Deepest Nighttime In His Body.

Girls Forbidden To Dance Would Only Attract Husbands With Bad Complexions And Sunken Chests.

In The End, The Tortures Tearing The Lisbon Girls Pointed To A Simple Reasoned Refusal To Accept The World As It Was Handed Down To Them, So Full Of Flaws.