Crazy booty I often inventoried in the dead of night
mirepspцитирует10 месяцев назад
I answer I do not wish to own
mirepspцитирует10 месяцев назад
Nothing — an old spoon, a rudder, the remains of a walkie-talkie
mirepspцитирует10 месяцев назад
I open my bundle and dump the contents in the furrows of the earth
mirepspцитирует10 месяцев назад
for caught within my little gem was more misery and hope than one could fathom
mirepspцитирует10 месяцев назад
Little droplets that somehow became gems gathered by beggars who trade them for rice
mirepspцитирует10 месяцев назад
I had a ruby. Imperfect, beautiful like faceted blood. It came from India where they wash up on the shore
mirepspцитирует10 месяцев назад
This uncommon bundle has always been my comfort, my happy burden
mirepspцитирует10 месяцев назад
I have always possessed a kind of knapsack, if nothing more than a piece of cloth or skin tied in a knot. My sack, worthy companion, produces, when opened, a world defined by its contents — fluxion, unique, beloved