XVIII And then her mouth,... «Sappho: One Hundred Lyrics»
Tatebanko19 июня 2012XVIII
And then her mouth, more delicate Than the frail wood-anemone, Brushes my cheek, and deeper grow The purple shadows.
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XVIII
And then her mouth, more delicate Than the frail wood-anemone, Brushes my cheek, and deeper grow The purple shadows.
