Emma pads through the living room, over the thick, ivory carpet, and settles on the chaise longue with her wineglass. As she tastes the cold white wine, her gaze falls to the fields on the valley
...
[+]
If you call on
me
one evening
in the city
of un-
known poets
we'll talk
not a word
of the turning
world
no
but win-
dows throw
open
and listen
to the unsung in
unison
beautifully
singing
me
one evening
in the city
of un-
known poets
we'll talk
not a word
of the turning
world
no
but win-
dows throw
open
and listen
to the unsung in
unison
beautifully
singing
9