Page 53 - stages of unrequited Love: poetic dissertation
P. 53
4. dismay
4.6. seclusion
which piece of this dead land
would I bury me in so well?
the Earth’s wet smell to grant
the Earth wet as I smell
as hermit to understand
since founding this cell
an hourglass that canned volcanic island
the sand that now fell that dormant keeps the hell
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