Cats Cradle - читать онлайн бесплатно полную версию книги . Страница 92
On the Poet’s Celebration of His First Boko-maru 92
These are not Bokonon’s words. They are mine.
Sweet wraith,Invisible mist of…I am—My soul—Wraith lovesick o’erlong,O’erlong alone:Wouldst another sweet soul meet?Long have IAdvised thee illAs to where two soulsMight tryst.My soles, my soles!My soul, my soul,Go there,Sweet soul;Be kissed.Mmmmmmm.