04 января 2012 года в04.01.2012 08:20 1 0 10 1

At night you want to give your thoughts
to someone, someone who will let you
pour back and forth, the way you do
between glasses to aerate the wine.

Maybe, reader, I have let you down,
not enough images here, not enough
insight. But my lover cut himself up,
covered the back of his forearms
in bloody stripes. Now, I don’t think
I know anything about love.

Alison Campbell

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