โ POEM ๐๐ Poul Lynggaard Damgaard
I hold the skin against my own hands.
The bread bleeds around a neck.
Here there are a thousand phones,
but not enough phones for everyone.
๐๐ฉ๐ฆ แชIแGO แชEแญIแOแ
An Online Literary Journal of Translations
I hold the skin against my own hands.
The bread bleeds around a neck.
Here there are a thousand phones,
but not enough phones for everyone.