Page:Enough Rope - Parker - 1926.djvu/23

Devil-gotten sinners,
 Throwing back their heads;
Fiddling for their dinners,
 Kissing for their beds.

Not a one had seen us
 Wouldn’t help him flee.
Angry ran between us
 Blood of him and me.

How shall I be mating
 Who have looked above—
Living for a hating,
 Dying of a love?

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