Max Fomitchev-Zamilov | Poetry and Prose

Максим Фомичёв-Замилов | Поэзия и проза

Love can’t be contrived,
Nor forced into being.

It won’t yield to blows
Of a heavy cudgel,

Nor drip like paste
Squeezed from a tube.

Love flows boundless,
A river unending.

Those who hold it
Never exhaust its spring,
For love grows deeper
The more it is shared.

Leave a Reply

Discover more from Max Fomitchev-Zamilov | Poetry and Prose

Subscribe now to keep reading and get access to the full archive.

Continue reading