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“Killed Paive” by
Ernest Hemingway
🇺🇸
(
21 Jul 1899
–
2 Jul 1961
)
Desire and
All the sweet pulsing aches
And gentle hurtings
That were you,
Are gone into the sullen dark.
Now in the night you come unsmiling
To lie with me
A dull, cold, rigid bayonet
On my hot-swollen, throbbing soul.