she got in, the last one
before the leaves turned.
a strange life
concealed quiet want
in loveless strictures.
her skin
turned brown
harvesting the sun.
consent to make
fiercely lavished attention
quite impossible
pleasure.
alone,
so far way,
to marry a notion
grasped with good.
it might be,
very.
Aus Gott wird man gebor'n, in Christo stirbet man. //////////////// Und in dem heil'gen Geist fängt man zu leben an.
"If you're not living on the edge, you're taking up too much space." - anonymous
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Vingettes Of A Memoir
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