Suspect Each Moment, for it is a Thief, Tiptoeing Away with More than it Brings
Thursday, March 18th, 2010
Little in the way of eyebrows. Little in the way of lips: my mouth, its two wiggles fitted with a wary set as if ready to dart into an ambiguous flurry of expressions, has never pleased me, though it has allegedly pleased others. Chin a…
