info PARALIAN writing prompts music boys
Her parents no longer offer me wine
now that her tender life is in his hands.
No, for me it’s just cold water, the kind
she used to draw and carry - weeping over me -
from the well where once I took her by the waist, and kissed
her neck as she arched it back, letting tender words drop from
her lips.
—Theognis, 6th or 7th century BCE
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