Description
Let me translate some of the pains of the seats as they welcome you..
Let me, express what is going on in the minds of the cups,
As they think of your lips..
And of the spoons, and the sugar bowl..
Let me add you a new letter..
To the letters of the alphabet..
Let me contradict myself a little
And combine in love civilization and barbarism..
And between the fall and winter
There is a season I call the season of crying
In which the soul is closer than ever to the sky..
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