Julia Clark-CombotinPoetry Under CovermoreI only taste myself on your fingertips; no wonder Your lips have swallowed me Whole. Nothing left behind to find; Only cobwebs of nearly…Apr 28, 20172Apr 28, 20172
Julia Clark-CombotmouthBlack and white photographs; the wiry hair of an artichoke’s heart, a conch’s Glossy lip lighted along the ridges and spires of…Apr 19, 2017Apr 19, 2017
Julia Clark-CombothandsThe sort of hands that remind Your skin of it’s universe of invisible hair Standing on end. No boundary to him, easily sliding Under it…Apr 19, 2017Apr 19, 2017