2019年03月13日

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 359th. week

Getting hold of a rod, by her overhand grip, to touch my fingers on.
On this occasion, a commendable thing, trying to say.
From an eye of a corpse, left up in the air, a beetle is.
Winkles twisted, to press out, eight-map space we get.
To smear with blood, in the bottom of a pot, laughing his face seen,

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