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That sword, the mace, the crown shall sleep so soundly as the wretched slave.


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"That sword, the mace, the crown imperial shall sleep so soundly as the wretched slave."



06 Apr 2002

There is a photograph I wish I could have taken.

It's of a friend in the afternoon. She is sitting on a chair, in jeans, legs crossed. Her elbow rests on her knee, and her head is in the cup of her hand. She's wearing a denim shirt, and her long straight blonde hair falls in front of her face, hiding her eyes which stare through the floor.

She is lit by bands of light, glare passed through a venetian blind. Midsummer sun seen from an air conditioned room.