La Madre de Dios
I was washed by the color of my mother's eyes.
It washed away everything, even the rhymes.
It washed away everything, even the rhymes.
posted by eidolon at 12:46 PM
Laura (Riding) Jackson, Edgar Allen Poe, John Keats, Philip K. Dick
posted by eidolon at 12:46 PM
2 Comments:
When will you be leaving more of our superb tellings with us dear poet?
Like now; but don't be surprised if they're gone by sundown.
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