Pacific wind that holds me sweetly
I would die if not to sleep
Gentle arms which fold to meet me
Flow to reach this deep instilled
Read More“It has been assumed, tacitly and avowedly, directly and indirectly, that the ultimate object of all Poetry is Truth.”
Pacific wind that holds me sweetly
I would die if not to sleep
Gentle arms which fold to meet me
Flow to reach this deep instilled
Read MoreHad I known the nature of her I’d not curse the nature of me
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