Tag Archives: ink's getting rancid

For Jane, it was gulls High tide hyperbole, skin art and a barrel of fish without scales, tossed by the strength of the hurricane. Corralled in her current calamity, between land and the vertical, she clamors to crawl through the tundra. For Jane, it was gulls.  In particular, those with that herringbone pattern, and herContinue reading “VOICES FROM THE FIRE: Emalisa Rose”