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Margaret Atwood - He stops, looks up at this window,...
He stops, looks up at this window, and I can see the white oblong of his face. We look at each other. I have no rose to toss, he has no lute. But it's the same kind of hunger. (Margaret Atwood)

He stops, looks up at this window, and I can see the white oblong of his face. We look at each other. I have no rose to toss, he has no lute. But it's the same kind of hunger.

Margaret Atwood

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face hunger kind lute oblong rose see toss white window stops looks

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