We survive together or not at all
This room has mystery like a trance of wine; forget-me-nots of you are chair and couch, the books your fingers touched. And now that you are absent here the silence scrapes a secret rust from everything; while sudden wreaths of sorrow’s dust uncover emptiness like halls to stumble through, and terror falls. ~Kenneth Patchen
This room has mystery like a trance of wine;
forget-me-nots of you are chair and couch, the books your fingers touched.
And now that you are absent here the silence scrapes a secret rust from everything;
while sudden wreaths of sorrow’s dust uncover emptiness like halls to stumble through,
and terror falls.
~Kenneth Patchen
