She is neither pink nor pale,
And she never will be all mine,
She learned her hands in a fairy-tale,
And her mouth on a valentine.
She has more hair than she needs,
In the sun 'tis a woe to me!
And her voice is a string of colored beads,
Or steps leading into the sea.
She loves me all that she can,
And her ways to my ways resign,
But she was not made for any man,
And she never will be mine.
---Edn St. Vincent Millay
Off to New York and Philadelphia for a wedding with my love.... Back soon.
Tess
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
Witch Wife
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