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free love poem

which i wish to remark
beside a stricken field
she might have known it in the earlier spring
grieve not for the invisible
for truth, for love
tripping up, falling down
brother, i am fire
there are three ways in which men take
i had a dream and i awoke with it
gone before us
love me at last, or if you will not
blossoms of babies
give me

 



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