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Not from this anger, anticlimax after Refusal struck her **** and the lame flower Bent like a beast to lap the singular floods In a land strapped by hunger Shall she receive a bellyful of weeds And bear those tendril hands I touch across The agonized, two seas. Behind my head a square of sky sags over The circular smile tossed from lover to lover And the golden ball spins out of the skies; Not from this anger after Refusal struck like a bell under water Shall her smile breed that mouth, behind the mirror, That burns along my eyes.
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Not From This Anger
Not from this anger, anticlimax after Refusal struck her **** and the lame flower Bent like a beast to lap the singular floods In a land strapped by hunger Shall she receive a bellyful of weeds And bear those tendril hands I touch across The agonized, two seas. Behind my head a square of sky sags over The circular smile tossed from lover to lover And the golden ball spins out of the skies; Not from this anger after Refusal struck like a bell under water Shall her smile breed that mouth, behind the mirror, That burns along my eyes.
Dylan Thomas
1914 - 1953/Male/Welsh