Beneath such dreamy weather,
To beg a tale of breath too weak
To stir the tiniest feather!
Saturday, August 10, 2013
But my heart is an old house
(the kind my mother
grew up in)
hell to heat and cool
and faulty in the wiring
and though it's nice to look at
I have no business
inviting lovers in.
-
by
Clementine Von Radics
(Source:
petrichour
, via
lifeinpoetry
)
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