BFFs Angie and Kristan blog about anything, everything, and sometimes even nothing.

Regret

by

I am afraid of being, on this shore,
a branchless trunk, and what I most regret
is having no flower, pulp, or clay
for the worm of my despair.

Excerpted from the poem “Sonnet of the Sweet Complaint” by Federico GarcĂ­a Lorca

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