wandering the whole day, the Day came back with a girl named Rain
where i had been disheveled with a ghazal
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
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It weeps for distant
things.
Hot southern sands
yearning for white
camellias.
Weeps arrow without
target
evening without morning
and the first dead bird
on the branch.
Oh, guitar!
Heart mortally wounded
by five swords
Lorca-Guitar-
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