Tourist To Aphrodite Poem by Richard Blanch
Tourist To Aphrodite
Stop shaking your gold and blue at me.
Can’t you see
I would come if I could?
But there are racks and bonds
Hold me fondly back-
Break them, then, you and your doves
And the new I, refreshed,
Will come to your olive groves
Live with your sun-brown flesh
Blue skies and
White lies.
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5/5/2024 5:24:58 PM # 1.0.0.1119
