| M. Næssum | ||||||||||
| Spring 2004 | ||||||||||
| Pillow The smell of his pillow when I beat it, to bring it back into shape, a boy’s smell Not at all like the pillows in the big bed, the strong smell of unknown things I am afraid of and still want to find out, combined with the sweet smell of my woman-mother and the metal smell of my man-father I can tell easily with closed eyes whose pillow I smell |
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| More poems | ||||||||||