Monthly Archives: April 2014
By John Kendall Hawkins
He falls asleep to her broken voice whispering, through fist-clenched hair, “No more. Enough.” And she slips from his bed, from his life, leaving behind the escutcheon of coral with its emblem oak tree, and enters the convent for desire the heart creates to endure the unbearable loss of meaning. Her escape, her paradise, her fin-de-siècle fare-thee-well.
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