I typed up some of my favorite lines for you:
The forest gave you a necklace of hands. So dead you walk the rope. To your hair a darker blue is imparted; I speak of love.
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In the vault of swords the leaf-green heart of the shadows looks at itself. The blades are bright: who would not linger in death before mirrors?
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High up they hurl hearts, the mossy globes of dementia:
O water-colored fleece, our one flag on the tower!
**
Ok, I will show you more tomorrow. If you're lucky.
1 comments:
Lovely
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