Sylvia's Book
P Patti Masterman
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I want to eat the yellow poetry book
she wrote, every bright morning's sun
looking on while I attempt to devour
everything of hers within reach, which isn't much
left unsullied by the whole world's touch.
I am hungry beyond hope of repair:
only her dusty words can possibly satisfy
the empty pit of my
obsessions.
Bu şiiri puanla
Henüz puan verilmemiş