Читать книгу Door in the Mountain - Jean Valentine - Страница 42

The Basket House

The basket house:

to shelter me

inside the night cave

the emptiness

where the other one holds me

nurses me

in the emptiness,

holds me the way

paper made out of a tree

holds a deer.

And he holds me near:

he pulls the cord

out from me, in to him,

length over length.