Читать книгу The Language of Loss - Barbara Abercrombie - Страница 19

FROM for Jane

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in this room

the hours of love

still make shadows.

when you left

you took almost

everything.

I kneel in the nights

before tigers

that will not let me be.

what you were

will not happen again.

the tigers have found me

and I do not care.

—CHARLES BUKOWSKI

The Language of Loss

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