| ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
by Jean Toomer
coiled like a lyncher's rope, Eyes——fagots, Lips——old scars, or the first red blisters2, Breath——the last sweet scent3 of cane4, And her slim body, white as the ash of black flesh after flame. 点击 收听单词发音
|
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
上一篇:On a Door 下一篇:On 52nd Street |
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
TAG标签:
- 发表评论
-
- 最新评论 进入详细评论页>>

收听单词发音 

