春天，是一首诗
春天，是一首诗Ｎｅｔｔｉｅ Ｆａｒｒｉｓ
This love
Sits quietly
And prim
Like the blush
Of an apple
Blossom,
Its sweet nectar
Barely a hint,
And this poem
(if you can call it that)
Is but the whisper
Of a kiss—
Feel it
Brush there
Against the corner
Of your lips
Just
When you
Are least
Expecting it.
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