The Old Revolutionary’s Room (Nijole Miliauskaite Poems)
o the poverty of holidays, the sadness of holidaysthe shiningwindowsin the emptying street, wetflags, torn and rentby the wind, rustling ...
o the poverty of holidays, the sadness of holidaysthe shiningwindowsin the emptying street, wetflags, torn and rentby the wind, rustling ...
a murky profilein the window; lamp light glares against yellowish curtainsjerks forward, swings roundbends againdumb shadow, stranger to allyou sit beyond ...
This smell, of lipstickand powder, I adored itI can almost hear the rustleof real silk - my mother'sparty gowna golden ...
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