To bloom and branch
Today's Dickinsonian oracle. May you branch, too. Or at least tingle.
I am alive - I guess -
The Branches on my Hand
Are full of Morning Glory -
And at my finger's end -
The Carmine - tingles warm -
And if I hold a Glass
Across my mouth - it blurs it -
Physician's - proof of Breath -
(E. Dickinson, from 605)
I am alive - I guess -
The Branches on my Hand
Are full of Morning Glory -
And at my finger's end -
The Carmine - tingles warm -
And if I hold a Glass
Across my mouth - it blurs it -
Physician's - proof of Breath -
(E. Dickinson, from 605)
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