tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-273050520636393068.post7323758241479232823..comments2017-09-20T10:49:46.837-07:00Comments on Give the grave only bones.: That time I wrote about him. Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13467455790877788119noreply@blogger.comBlogger1125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-273050520636393068.post-37099449512736738862016-04-29T11:16:53.262-07:002016-04-29T11:16:53.262-07:00hhmmmm...I seem to be having a hard time to find w...hhmmmm...I seem to be having a hard time to find words with this one. I find myself very captured by your use of words, language and the passionate poetic feel to this one. There are only two things coming to me in terms of a response. <br /><br />One, this feels like a sliver of a moment that came, made it's mark and left. Second, I am getting a strong image of this being written on an old type writer (type writer font) and the moment the paper is lifted off from the typewriter it starts to burn ferociously. Then the paper disintegrates and all that remains is a black mark engraved on the floor. <br /><br />That is the image that came very strongly and sometimes I don't have words for what is written. So take that image I just gave you and you don't necessarily need to give meaning to it - just reflect on if there is something that wants to emerge in response to what I wrote - maybe there is something? maybe there isn't? maybe there is an in between feeling of the two. That is all. hannahgeaseyhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/10424637141798886222noreply@blogger.com