willingly for her in spring,
my awkward intuition tangoes lusciously
in between her
answering wood
and her
self-portrait in bark.
and where she is cut?
a fever breaks.
and where I more than cry?
sryup.
In a list
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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This was a good poem I like the wittyness of this.
For a short one is a very good one.



