Evocation by Ann Wood
Before the day startson my body to move
and take me
centimeter per centimeter,
before in my brain
to nest,
a sweet gentleness of sleep,
calls in my eyes tilles.
I wish I did not wake up,
to feel the long warming palm ...
Oh, how little I need a man,
at least in my dream not to be alone.
Poetry by Ann Wood
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Written on 2017-10-20 at 18:26
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