1.0Birth, Death & Imaginationhttps://www.louisfcuffari.com/memoirLouis F. Cuffarihttps://www.louisfcuffari.com/memoir/author/louisfcuffari/rich600338<blockquote class="wp-embedded-content" data-secret="yEOjZD24Wa"><a href="https://www.louisfcuffari.com/memoir/2010/10/my-clavicle/">My Clavicle</a></blockquote><iframe sandbox="allow-scripts" security="restricted" src="https://www.louisfcuffari.com/memoir/2010/10/my-clavicle/embed/#?secret=yEOjZD24Wa" width="600" height="338" title="“My Clavicle” — Birth, Death & Imagination" data-secret="yEOjZD24Wa" frameborder="0" marginwidth="0" marginheight="0" scrolling="no" class="wp-embedded-content"></iframe><script type="text/javascript"> /* <![CDATA[ */ /*! This file is auto-generated */ !function(d,l){"use strict";l.querySelector&&d.addEventListener&&"undefined"!=typeof URL&&(d.wp=d.wp||{},d.wp.receiveEmbedMessage||(d.wp.receiveEmbedMessage=function(e){var t=e.data;if((t||t.secret||t.message||t.value)&&!/[^a-zA-Z0-9]/.test(t.secret)){for(var s,r,n,a=l.querySelectorAll('iframe[data-secret="'+t.secret+'"]'),o=l.querySelectorAll('blockquote[data-secret="'+t.secret+'"]'),c=new RegExp("^https?:$","i"),i=0;i<o.length;i++)o[i].style.display="none";for(i=0;i<a.length;i++)s=a[i],e.source===s.contentWindow&&(s.removeAttribute("style"),"height"===t.message?(1e3<(r=parseInt(t.value,10))?r=1e3:~~r<200&&(r=200),s.height=r):"link"===t.message&&(r=new URL(s.getAttribute("src")),n=new URL(t.value),c.test(n.protocol))&&n.host===r.host&&l.activeElement===s&&(d.top.location.href=t.value))}},d.addEventListener("message",d.wp.receiveEmbedMessage,!1),l.addEventListener("DOMContentLoaded",function(){for(var e,t,s=l.querySelectorAll("iframe.wp-embedded-content"),r=0;r<s.length;r++)(t=(e=s[r]).getAttribute("data-secret"))||(t=Math.random().toString(36).substring(2,12),e.src+="#?secret="+t,e.setAttribute("data-secret",t)),e.contentWindow.postMessage({message:"ready",secret:t},"*")},!1)))}(window,document); /* ]]> */ </script> C’e la luna amante. Spread those angelic gifts and soar. Parachute of cargo, grasp tightly upon my tender collarbone and push this mortal through the stratosphere. Dust to clouds from the river of remains; I’ve grown fond of the apsara in you. Fatigue wound by intoxicated thrust, tracing maps of the uncharted skies. Infinite intelligence […]