From hot, sweet breath to stutter'd gasps. She shifts -
her indian imitations are. With her
I mourn the last and few; dry and musky
does not a pregnant month foretell, it's true.
This, the offering waved, we gain horizons.
At the scent a horse will wake and mosses
hold the granite fast. Since the buyers leave
the basest traders flee and hinterlands
once bare are left to breathe.
anon, I'll you see when I 'scape the lee -
as one from self-assured contentedness and lifts
the veil. Short shrift and vague indemnities
her indian imitations are. With her
I mourn the last and few; dry and musky
does not a pregnant month foretell, it's true.
This, the offering waved, we gain horizons.
At the scent a horse will wake and mosses
hold the granite fast. Since the buyers leave
the basest traders flee and hinterlands
once bare are left to breathe.
No comments:
Post a Comment