My Brother My Wound
BY NATALIE DIAZ
He was calling in the bulls from the street.
They came like a dark river —
a blur of chest and hoof — . . .
Mar 13, 2014
Mar 13, 2014 at 8:43 PM UTC
My Brother My Wound
BY NATALIE DIAZ
He was calling in the bulls from the street.
They came like a dark river —
a blur of chest and hoof — . . .