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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=365335" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Fresh and Rosy Fingered Flowers</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=365335" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Incantations, the flesh devours<br>The time the place we claim they’re ours<br>As fresh and rosy fingered flowers<br>Bloom in and out of season.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=365335" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">How is it we can feel so alone<br>Surrounded by all and sundry? <br>How is it we can see real a love<br>Without ever having tried? <br>How can we be expected to tell the truth<br>When all we’re ever was lies? <br>How am I to acquire he truth at all<br>If they won’t allow me to kiss the sky?</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=David+Lacey">David Lacey</a></strong></div>

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