The claw protective flung
About her shoulders’ haven,
Decrees nor you nor I shall touch
His starveling heaven;
Her stars low sockets hold,
Thin lips her hollow,
Pale tongue through banks of teeth winds winds where
His love must follow.
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Funeral
Friend, you were my child My mother also Ages long past: The worm is dead in the shell The spark lit its ruin: Already have an account? Log in Join […]
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Bare branches of late autumn reach in patience Toward the torn and raining autumn sky. They hold my torn heart in their waving crotches. Old people, with a fair amount […]
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