(via ddd dot r2 dot ru slash 3d)


   "Waiting

They swear the dead come back at night,
Who once were women and men,
And sob and cry in the strange weather,
To be let in again.

Out by the straggling thorn I wait,
But you are not come yet;
So it must be that I remember,
And that you forget."

--Liz*tt* Woodworth R**s*, South*rn Po*ts


Bactrian gold.


History on Trial.


Curry.