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It’s nice, you know, the way the rain clings as if everything were too precious to let go the handrails and plum blossoms, the slick lines of his hunting jacket as he hurries in from the wet laughing, because you can’t not laugh and the storm too early for spring too late for winter so just storm nods lazily over the city like reading a favorite book. |
Oh my God you have always been one of top favorite writers And from what I can tell after so long, you've only gotten that much more astonishing. I cannot thank you enough for sharing your poetry. I would pay you if I could, but I'm broke Thank you again. | Posted on 2018-08-19 00:00:00 | by MyPeriodical | [ Reply to This ] | |