The Boy (Marilyn Hacker Poem)
It is the boy in me who's looking out the window, while someone across the street mends a pillowcase, clouds ...
It is the boy in me who's looking out the window, while someone across the street mends a pillowcase, clouds ...
Cherry-ripe: dark sweet burlats, scarlet reverchons firm-fleshed and tart in the mouth bigarreaux, peach-and-white napoléons as the harvest moves north ...
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