Born not of night’s fall on the sea you,
No, borne to land a living pearl not
You, not stormy daughter, nor gold apple eater,
Not willow-bodied, trapped beneath nets heaving.
Read MoreBorn not of night’s fall on the sea you,
No, borne to land a living pearl not
You, not stormy daughter, nor gold apple eater,
Not willow-bodied, trapped beneath nets heaving.
Read Morethough you say it’s 2.37, telling me what love is…
Read More