And the knits, drops of wool, are scattered by the thousands/ The hours go by and the Knitter replies “Another row”. / Her waking dreams become tuques, sweaters and mittens/ Which she offers herself and offers while whispering “I love you beyond time.
And the knits, drops of wool, are scattered by the thousands/ The hours go by and the Knitter replies “Another row”. / Her waking dreams become tuques, sweaters and mittens/ Which she offers herself and offers while whispering “I love you beyond time.
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