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math poem

three days i heard them grieve when i lay dead
with lips blood red and heart of stone
evidenced in the glimmer in your eyes
some of the hurts you have cured
stay no more
over the rooftops race the shadows of clouds
white foam flower, red flame flower
in halls of sleep you wandered by
had he and i but met
two rows of cabbages
that strange companion came on shuffling feet
braided and woven

 



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