Blessed are those fingers that yearn to write, even though fatigue drops the guillotine. Blessed are those ears, That swallow indiscriminately at the slightest Emission Of a forlorn relation barking dissent. Matryoshka dolls That hold hands and waltz And remind you of something you couldn’t have. Kahwa steam whose wraiths tickle your nose and make [...]
Trending Articles
More Pages to Explore .....