The me clothed in cheap rat cotton (to breathe the skin)
Walks stiff inside voluminously talking.
Squinting, straining, blinking. “Sit yourself down, girl, please,”
She’d say. “Knock me down,” I’d plead inside. Give
Me a heavy draught so I’ll be like swimming in
An ocean instead of splashing in a
One reply on “elegy no. 2”
Such sadness here.
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