You Thought I Was That Type
You thought I was that type: That you could forget me, And that I'd plead and weep And throw myself under the hooves of a bay mare, Or that I'd ask the sorcerers For some magic potion made from roots and send you a terrible gift: My precious perfumed handkerchief. Damn you! I will not grant your cursed soul Vicarious tears or a single glance. And I swear to you by the garden of the angels, I swear by the miracle-working icon, And by the fire and smoke of our nights: I will never come back to you.
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"You thought I was that type:..."
Exploring the themes of classic, Anna Akhmatova delivers a powerful performance in "You Thought I Was That Type"... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...