Killed Paive–July 8–1918 Published February 10, 2018 by suprusr 0 Desire andAll the sweet pulsing achesAnd gentle hurtingsThat were you,Are gone into the sullen dark.Now in the night you come unsmilingTo lie with meA dull, cold, rigid bayonetOn my hot-swollen, throbbing soul. Related posts: Riparto D’Assalto Montparnasse suprusr Published in Poems
