“POEMS” на російській мові

She fed the fat little flame of it, fed it photographs of the two of them, then the poems he had written for her:Our skins entwineand ruband bleed togetherso our love sinks deeperdeeper to the bonesthe bonesand beyondIt deserved to burn; all the untrue, stupid sentences of the world should burn.

You don’t need the poems.

Her turn: she talks of the poems she’s writing now, poems about loss and good grace and kindness.