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mother poem

do not turn your head
will you glimmer on the sea?
there was never a sound beside the wood but one
when freedom from her mountain height
the little white prayers
to some the fat gods
as a naked man i go
they threw a stone, you threw a stone
now for a brisk and cheerful fight
take my bracelets
dark-eyed
evidenced in the glimmer in your eyes
therefore i may not

 



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