Edith Mirick (Эдит Мирик)

Pins

I like largeness,
Great wounds,
Big sins.

I falter, God;
I faint beneath
The prick of little pins.

1. Through Clearing Glass
2. Minotaur
3. Crooked Roads
4. Deirdre

Распечатать (To print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1556

Последние стихотворения

To English version