"What have you to promise? the red clay moans,
What have you in store for my future bones?
I am Death, said the angel, and death is the end,
I am Man, cries clay rising, and you are my friend."

- From the Coptic, Stevie Smith (1902-1971)
  • between a rock and a hard place. (it's actually quite comfortable)
  • JoinedMarch 25, 2017



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