I Accuse
You have words
But nothing hangs on them.
They gleam
On the moulding of your mouth
Like empty picture-hooks.
Even when you say you love me,
There's but a frame—
With neither me in it
But nothing hangs on them.
They gleam
On the moulding of your mouth
Like empty picture-hooks.
Even when you say you love me,
There's but a frame—
With neither me in it
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