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Windows and Stones: Selected Poems by
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Edita
is on page 54 of 84
October's sea flashes its cold
dorsal fin of mirages.
Nothing's left that remembers
the racing sails' white dizziness.
— Apr 06, 2015 06:02AM
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dorsal fin of mirages.
Nothing's left that remembers
the racing sails' white dizziness.
Edita
is on page 26 of 84
We have seen so much.
Reality has almost used us up
— Apr 05, 2015 09:38PM
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Reality has almost used us up
Edita
is on page 16 of 84
Two truths approach each other. One comes from within,
one comes from without-and where they meet you have the chance
to catch a look at yourself.
Noticing what is about to happen, you shout desperately: "Stop!
Anything, anything, as long as I don't have to know myself."
— Apr 05, 2015 09:27PM
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one comes from without-and where they meet you have the chance
to catch a look at yourself.
Noticing what is about to happen, you shout desperately: "Stop!
Anything, anything, as long as I don't have to know myself."
Edita
is on page 14 of 84
So many things I loved, have they no significance?
— Apr 05, 2015 10:30AM
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