"I am tired, Beloved, of chafing my heart against the want of you; of squeezing it into little inkdrops, And posting it."
"A black cat among roses, phlox, lilac-misted under a quarter moon, the sweet smells of heliotrope and night-scented stock. The garden is very still. It is dazed with moonlight, contented with perfume."
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Source: Amy Lowell (2010). “Che ore sono?: poesie”, p.133, G. D'Ambrosio Angelillo
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