A PHOTOGRAPH FROM CARCEMISH
I gaze at you now, my darling, my brother,
the pistol asleep in your young groin,
your lips pulled back in a mighty grin.
My little Hittite, after you there can be no other.
In your dark eyes, my darling, my brother,
The world was created from the waters of Chaos;
now black waves of tears
crash upon the beaches of my sleep
and drown my dreams forever.
T. E. Lawrence.
|
|