ForkWordPoems by Inchiki |
|
|
|
What to do? In love with you! You know there is some sorcery in it. Musky nettled magic that I want to eat. Drooping flowers, wetted by silence, Smelling of nether, baited with sorcery! It heaves me about like a limp thing. I’ll rise to this now Then swell into the trough Dictators; the waves, How can I get off? from the red notebook, 1998 |
↵ index
|