Inside the sterile donor centre, I queasily thumb through a copy of "The Northern Miner", as a half quart of blood oozes from a vein.
I try to do my part, whenever I’m able. There’s a sense of obligation, when Jacob is below.

No Poem Is the Only Poem. No Story Is the Only Story. No Kings.
Inside the sterile donor centre, I queasily thumb through a copy of "The Northern Miner", as a half quart of blood oozes from a vein.
I try to do my part, whenever I’m able. There’s a sense of obligation, when Jacob is below.