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“You - a sight for sore eyes, a touch of brush on canvas, an enclave on my wicked heart, a ludicrous perfect composition of selected words, of an unknown poet, such perfection, uniquely spread in a human being. (Excerpted from The runner, chapter Pain)” — Claudia Pavel
You - a sight for sore eyes,
a touch of brush on canvas,
an enclave on my wicked heart,
a ludicrous perfect composition
of selected words, of an unknown poet,
such perfection,
uniquely spread in a human being.
(Excerpted from The runner, chapter Pain)