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friend poem

i walk down the garden paths
let us express our baser passions
some of the hurts you have cured
is there anybody there
which keeps
to the passionate lover
tripping up, falling down
i flung my soul to the air like a falcon flying
braided and woven
the saddest of the year
brief on a flying night
though love repine, and reason chafe
but i cannot read you now
i love to steal awhile away

 



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