Hinged to forgetfulness
like a door,
she slowly closed out of
sight,
and she was the woman I loved,
but too many times she slept like
a mechanical deer in my caresses,
and I ached in the metal silence
of her dreams.
Back to Richard Brautigan
Get a free collection of Classic Poetry ↓
To be able to leave a comment here you must be registered. Log in or Sign up.