I lie asleep and you send in beams of messengers each with the same warm words: ‘Hey, lazybones – wakie! wakie!’
Comments closedI lie asleep and you send in beams of messengers each with the same warm words: ‘Hey, lazybones – wakie! wakie!’
Comments closedit does not seem to be a complete love this love that seems to grow on me that grows over you; for one day like…
Comments closedand so it has come to pass that the masculine in poetry is suspect the feminine distorted into clichés; that poetry must be effeminate and…
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