All the old cliches of loveLet me on this fine day, my loveUndermine all the old clichés of love for youThey say that love will give you wings,I truly hope this is not true,What use would I have of such cumbersome appendages That let me leave the cold and bitter worldI always used to wander inYet when I look back over my shoulderIt seems to me some bright white feathers growUpon which I can soar into the heavens with youThey say that love will set you on fireWhat utter nonsense is all this?Still cold are my ears, my thumbs and kneesMy ankles and my toes and my pretty little noseAlthough once again I have to admitThat other parts of me are heating up qu
Looking MUCH better than mine!
thank you for telling me this
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