Aleksandra Posted February 11, 2010 Share Posted February 11, 2010 Alone on the street, I ran to Wright's river. Me loving you and you loving me, I got lost in the middle of Paris. While walking the old streets of Verona, a dog asked me for food. I looked to the left side of the horizon, fed the dog my notebook, and left my pen inkless. And now, I will be your Matilde to whom you never wrote a wooden sonnet. Quote The poet is a liar who always speaks the truth - Jean Cocteau History of Macedonia Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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