Caitlin Doyle-Markwick

Figures in the Water

What, Sir, would you have us do? Rub powdered glass into the folds of old faces to make them anew? Press the wasted shoulder to the wheel just to drive the point? Turn young chests to coal face and tell …

Posted in 95: EARTH | Tagged

Precede Me

I forced myself one day to remove those gilded gloves I had donned for so long and feel the perspiration gathering on my neck. I revealed fingers, exquisitely imperfect fingers that clambered ahead of me, serving as my sight when …

Posted in 74: NO THEME V | Tagged