20 lipca 2012
Shapes
The florid footprints of hussies
seeped upon the black rug.
The florid heart of a saint crippled at the
fallow door.
The laughter of a sober count guised the howl
Of a callous whore.
count,
Composed a strangely shaped finger,
count your curses, ---
And Death was the raincoat I wore.
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