Five golden holes! Five wounds of Christ, five books of the Torah. The spell is breaking, but only because I look to Madison Avenue to fill those holes, not the deceptive babe who grows up to be a lamb, transformed into a phoenix, keeping his holes, with flames and fangs, and yet, not without mercy. Five days of feasting, five days to celebrate the Holy Family. Theotokos, child-god, and step-father and protector. It is lightly snowing outside, and inside, I think about his wounds and love the child as best I can.
A humble blog of tragic proportions
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