Come Caress
Come, come, come
Come caress
My sense of worthlessness
Touch my deformity with tenderness
That which I dare not call a soul
But will call like a dying crow
In
The wilderness
Povey 2017
Come, come, come
Come caress
My sense of worthlessness
Touch my deformity with tenderness
That which I dare not call a soul
But will call like a dying crow
In
The wilderness
Povey 2017