Unsent Telegram - Poem by Pavol Janik
Inside me a little bit of
a blue Christmas begins.
In the hotel room it's snowing
a misty scent - of your
endlessly distant perfume.
We're declining bodily
while in us the price
of night calls rises,
waves of private earth tremors
and the limits of an ocean of blood
on the curve of a lonely coast.
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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
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye