Wallace Stevens
Wallace Stevens
Wallace Stevens
Wallace Stevens
Wallace Stevens
Wallace Stevens
Wallace Stevens
Wallace Stevens
Wallace Stevens
Wallace Stevens
Wallace Stevens
Wallace Stevens
Wallace Stevens
Wallace Stevens
Wallace Stevens
Wallace Stevens
Wallace Stevens
Wallace Stevens
Wallace Stevens
Wallace Stevens
Wallace Stevens
Wallace Stevens
Wallace Stevens
Wallace Stevens
Wallace Stevens
Wallace Stevens
Wallace Stevens
Wallace Stevens
Wallace Stevens
Wallace Stevens
Wallace Stevens
Wallace Stevens
Wallace Stevens
Wallace Stevens
Wallace Stevens
Wallace Stevens
Wallace Stevens
Wallace Stevens
Wallace Stevens
Wallace Stevens
Wallace Stevens
Wallace Stevens
Wallace Stevens
Wallace Stevens
Wallace Stevens
Wallace Stevens
Wallace Stevens
Wallace Stevens
Wallace Stevens
Wallace Stevens
Wallace Stevens
Wallace Stevens
Wallace Stevens
Wallace Stevens
Wallace Stevens
Wallace Stevens
Wallace Stevens
Wallace Stevens
Wallace Stevens
Wallace Stevens
Wallace Stevens
Wallace Stevens
Wallace Stevens
Wallace Stevens
Wallace Stevens
Wallace Stevens
Wallace Stevens
Wallace Stevens
Wallace Stevens
Wallace Stevens
The light is like a spider.
It crawls over the water.
It crawls over the edges of the snow.
It crawls under your eyelids
And spreads its webs there—
Its two webs.
The webs of your eyes
Are fastened
To the flesh and bones of you
As to rafters or grass.
There are filaments of your eyes
On the surface of the water
And in the edgеs of the snow.
Tattoo was written by Wallace Stevens.