In the night
I am alone.
I sweat through the days
so I can sit here,
like this,
finding you.
The Herb Of Grace
Theology and Poetry, Politics and Prose
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- It’s Advent and I have nothing to wear!
- Carnival: unveiling of primordial energies
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- Political Discussions in the Public Sphere: Designed to be Powerless
- Music in Modernity: Gatherings of Sub-Conscious Desire
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