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mother poem

i am fevered
high walls and huge
along the banks
our pleasant moments fly
were it not for that singular smell
i flung my soul to the air like a falcon flying
see, from this counterfeit of him
the air is full of dawn and spring
the old west, the old time
i said, i have shut my heart
full of tears
splendid and terrible your love
sleep sweetly in your humble graves

 



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