Book Of Love. - Poem by Pius Khisa
None can peruse
Through the sacred pages therein:
On which millions of secrets are tucked;
On which nouns of men are jotted- with fountain
To be erased by end of time.
Therein life's meaning is concealed
By thick muscular walls
And is nourished
By the sap in its vessels...
It bleeds when pricked;
And wounds hardly heal!
Any hand holds it not-
But a one special....
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Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You