Sunday, 14 April 2013

Sunday Morning

It does no good to turn in on thought,
wading through the wires with one or
two things, ever-pleating upon themselves.
The devil can do what he wants, I'll ignore
the trickery and take all the hits. I'll observe
the thorny patterns and make of them a quilt,
under which will lie the whispers and sighs of
all the women who have ever loved me.

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