Torsade Literary Space Edwytha’s Plait: Eighth Tattersby
The Folly Tattersby Edwytha’s Plait Terror, when it comes, warms the night Fallen close and hard of breath like a parachute’s muffling silk and chill Night Borne opaque the face of pity Mirrored in the watcher’s eye The plain below Sinking to the cataract Emerging hidden under rock […]