
man reading, but I only gave him a quick glance as I was drawn in by his book. perfect opportunity for him to have said: my eyes are up here
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Reader unmov’d and Reader unshaken, Reader unseduc’d
and unterrified, through the long-loud and the sweet-still
I creep toward you. Toward you, I thistle and I climb.
I crawl, Reader, servile and cervine, through this blank
season, counting—I sleep and I sleep. I sleep,
Reader, toward you, loud as a cloud and deaf, Reader, deaf...
- olena kalytiak davis