Poezie
Cecilia Gallerani
1 min lectură·
Mediu
Everybody knows,
(well, almost)
The name of the
Lady With The Ermine,
But nobody
Will ever know
The name of the critter itself.
I happen to know you
For quite a while
But I still don’t know
How your skin feels like
On the inside of your thighs.
But, once again,
For such “frames”,
There are NO museums
To display.
True to its nature,
No autumn
Is the same season.
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