2.28.2007
2.26.2007
2.17.2007
tap sole, wolf howl, summer beach, woolen solitude
Labels:
poem
I am exhausted by the hilarity.
Tie up the tap shoes,
remove their soles;
let me carry the wolf howls in my chest
quietly into the moonlight;
let us kiss quietly on summer
beaches;
drink tea in woolen solitudes.
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