AH, God, the way your little finger moved
As you thrust a bare arm backward
And made play with your hair
And a comb a silly gilt comb
Ah, God--that I should suffer
Because of the way a little finger moved.
Stephen Crane
Showing posts with label comb. Show all posts
Showing posts with label comb. Show all posts
Thursday, March 12, 2009
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Illustration: Where Have All Your Dreams Gone by Joel Robison The Dream L OVE, if I weep it will not matter, And if you laugh I shal... -
Go ahead, throw words and words and words over me until I am covered. A strong wind comes- they blow away. Save me the trouble of ... -
You are the secret my heart holds silently, quietly, gleefully. When life erupts around me or tu...