Sonnet 44 & Boots Of Spanish Leather…
Willy `•.
“If the dull substance of my flesh were
thought…
Injurious distance should not stop my way…”
Bob `.▪︎’
“I’m sailing away in the morning
Is there something I can send you from
across the sea?
From the place that I’lI be landin'”
Me `.°~
You both make mine sorrow real…
hurting across the night mile… so distant is she…
………………^=t=V`…….🌙→⟂→💧→—→∞’…….~→|→,→—→∞’…`.°’~~~~~~>
Fragments of Loia 