"And I always thought: the very simplest words must be enough./
When I say what things are like/
Everyone’s heart must be torn to shreds./ That you’ll go down if you don’t stand up for yourself/ Surely you see that." -- Brecht
Brooklyn dusk
First fireflies of the season Drunk like me On the last musk Of linden blossoms
And if you ask me Who I am now I'll whisper your name
1 comment:
Short and sharp. And sweet.
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