By Scott Andrew Kass How foreign, that the soul by which I breathe,And have since, like the closing of a flower,To shield the bud, my flesh had made its sheath,Rejects its purpose; so Divine a power,Shriveled to waste, as if in refuse strewn,It shivered at the passing traffic's chill,At ends of alleys, deepened 'neath the … Continue reading How foreign, that the soul by which I breathe
Academy of the Heart And Mind 