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best friend poem

the single clenched fist lifted and ready
with joy and wonder
just as my fingers on these keys
when the veil from the eyes is lifted
i saw him once before
lady, your heart has turned to dust
she burst fierce wine
a blue-black nubian plucking oranges
it was the autumn of the year
with her hair flaying wildly
i am a woman
hang no wreath
it is true that you say the gods are more use to you than fairies
i saw with open eyes

 



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