Use Before Too Late
USE BEFORE TOO LATE
Like olives warmed by the unselfish sun of happy Greeks
Like babies’ cheeks
Her skin is smooth like soft and lustrous silk
And smells of milk
Like the trembling wings of a delighted butterfly
Who knows why?
A desert thorn each summer hopes for a drop of rain
Although in vain
In autumn every juicy bunch of grapes
Is squeezed to wine or fades
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