Jenny Minniti-Shippey

how much absence the body can hold by Jenny Minniti-Shippey

    bleed out every month, these: my near sight, the roman nose of my father                                                                                     uninhabited I am   what good my mouth too full of teeth, what good these hands, and my long fingers never clasped                                                                                     become untenanted I am become   under soft-skulled head, my […]