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For Jane

225 days under grass

and you know more than i.

they have long taken your blood,

you are a dry stick in a basket.

is this how it works?

in this room

the hours of love

still make shadows,

 

when you left

you took almost

everything.

I kneel in the nights

before tigers

that will not let me be.

 

what you were

will not happen again.

the tigers have found me

and I do not care.

Written by
Charles Bukowski
1920-1994 / Male / American
Lines·Words
18·76
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