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thank you poem

my sorrow, when she's here with me
white foam flower, red flame flower
the long resounding marble corridors
some one complained to the master
softly now the light of day
i think it just splendid
just as my fingers on these keys
my mother twines me roses wet with dew
and my name is truthful
out of me unworthy and unknown
at midnight
perhaps it is no matter that you died

 



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