in her appeal there was a low-hanging, overripe fruit; I am reading a new book and I am already bored. in my realization I am a child: I tellmy lover, men want to be God and women want to be men, the rib infected us. for us, men areGod. in their appeal, a wide high… Continue reading poem: /lit/’s top 100 greatest books of all time
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i could be bound in a nutshell and count it as infinite space if not for these bad dreams
the last pavilion 