每天一篇英文浪漫诗歌，让生活充满诗意！
I want to talk about the aftermath of love,
not the honeymoon orthe hitherto;
but the upshot and the convalescence,
the slow, hard hauling—the heavy tow.
I want to tell you about those evenings,
that crept inside like a vagrant cat;
and cast around its drawn out shadow,
untoward—insufferably black.
I want to write about the mornings,
the sterility of the stark, cold light;
struck against a pair of bare shoulders,
the lurid whisper of a misspent night.
I want to convey the afternoon setting,
the watertorture of the sink;
drip by drip, the clock and its ticking,
and too much time left now to think.
By Lang Leav
更多英文浪漫诗歌阅读欣赏
