Κατουράει το πρόσωπο του άντρα 0025

In a ten-foot window, there's a shoulder where death comes to climb.

There's a ladder with nine hundred windows. There's a tree where the doves go to die.

There's a piece that was torn from the morning bloom, and it hangs in the gallery of frost.

I, I,...I

In the cave at the tip of the lily, in some hall where love's never found