How many times must I call you?How long must I wait for a response?
If I had a hundred hands
I'd search for you
Through every blade of grass
And sift the dust grains of the earth
Through my fingers
To find your eyes again.
Now began the darkest season of her [Ksenia Nekrasova's] life: interminable months of wandering through unremembered cities, sleeping in the ruins of deserted buildings, searching for any piece of rancid food to quench her hunger.
from Iranian.com: Forgotten Poet
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