shot glass
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"... brevity is the soul of wit ..."
- William Shakespeare

Anna Cates


 

Triolet on Maud Gonne


How far away the stars seem, and how far
Is our first kiss, and ah, how old my heart. —William Butler Yeats

on the bed of longing he burned
she sighed on a silk pillow
above the Irish shoreline clouds churned
while on the bed of longing he burned
the days eclipsed and seasons turned
till hair grayed and passions mellowed
on the bed of longing he burned
she sighed on a silk pillow