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Eggs

by Gertrude Stein, 1914

Kind height, kind in the right stomach with a little sudden mill.

Cunning shawl, cunning shawl to be steady.

In white in white handkerchiefs with little dots in a white belt all shadows are singular they are singular and procured and relieved.

No that is not the cows shame and a precocious sound, it is a bite.

Cut up alone the paved way which is harm. Harm is old boat and a likely dash.

Published in Tender Buttons
Tags: cooking, lgbt

Any corrections or public domain poems I should have here? Email me at poems (at) this domain.