I cannot answer you tonight in small portions.
Torn apart by stormy loves gate, I float
like a phantom facedown in a well where
the cold dark water reflects vague half-built
stars and trades all our affection, touching, sleeping
together for tribunal distance standing like
a drowned train just beyond a pile of Eskimo
skeletons.
Showing posts with label Richard Brautigan. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Richard Brautigan. Show all posts
Tuesday, December 4, 2012
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