| the_wax_glass | ||
| Doar |
I sing to, while a song is sung, and others release the doves, falling short, bobbing at the misfortune. a simple hand, a simple stroke, a simple attitude. . this shoulder heaviness. careful to curtain, distracted by the play. . do you glean white? do you remember black? . four lights, frost nights, enclosed, independent. . |
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