-
You must offer her what’s left
-
fear of colour leaking from the heart; fear of internal avalanche; fear
-
we’re in the time the sun produced , or out of time
-
Adiós devil of rare delight
-
The stars who were created by words
-
I am a bush both of roses and forget-me-nots.
-
Soft as an ant’s patrol
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An empty cup, a flight of uncarpeted stairs.
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Age swept past me
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I need you
