Her skirt had botches of colors,
Red, pink, purple, green,
Her hands had colors too,
Her fingernails,
They had colorful sails,
And her cheeks,
They had pinkish hue,
And her canvas
Was like a lighted sky
Spread all over his eyes.
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The State Funeral
At least they have given her The State Funeral With tongue cut, She could not have spoken for The rare award, The police have done the th...
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Lord As a pianist whence Fully one fills a sense... An evening thinks perhaps it proper To become a starry night's divine lover... ...
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For the last few days... They are not talking... They just listen together-songs... Not songs proper even-some kind of music, instrument...
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Once the sculpted face Fell and with it fell Our pride Our demons We made love after that By the sides of our past. (For 'Magp...
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