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Perambulábo in innocéntia cordis mei, in médio domus meæ, the bell tolled from the bell tower, orange brick, Moorish design, the I is as nothing the whole symbol of the cross is the I crossed out Dom Joseph said, self denial Gerald said as we walked the cloister, her ***** hair was dark and come taste she said, it was pride that changed angels into devils; it is humility that makes men as angels Augustine said, the cloister gardens were rich in flowers, I worked there after Terce back bending and aching, the French monk said God talks in the soul, her ******* shone in the candlelight I kissed each in turn, when one loves one does not calculate Therese said, sunlight through the church's high windows colours on the paving stones between the choir stalls, polish the wood with care and a good yellow duster Dom James had said, the smell of polish and incense filled the church after Terce, the silence in the chapel before Mass touched and moved the hardness of heart, the peasant monk walked slow knowing his God and his small part.
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Dec 22, 2015
Dec 22, 2015 at 2:40 AM UTC
INNOCENT IN THE HOUSE 1971
Perambulábo in innocéntia cordis mei, in médio domus meæ, the bell tolled from the bell tower, orange brick, Moorish design, the I is as nothing the whole symbol of the cross is the I crossed out Dom Joseph said, self denial Gerald said as we walked the cloister, her ***** hair was dark and come taste she said, it was pride that changed angels into devils; it is humility that makes men as angels Augustine said, the cloister gardens were rich in flowers, I worked there after Terce back bending and aching, the French monk said God talks in the soul, her ******* shone in the candlelight I kissed each in turn, when one loves one does not calculate Therese said, sunlight through the church's high windows colours on the paving stones between the choir stalls, polish the wood with care and a good yellow duster Dom James had said, the smell of polish and incense filled the church after Terce, the silence in the chapel before Mass touched and moved the hardness of heart, the peasant monk walked slow knowing his God and his small part.
A YOUTH IN AN ABBEY IN 1971 HAUNTED BY A WOMAN
TerryCollett
Written by
Dec 22, 2015
Dec 22, 2015 at 2:40 AM UTC
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