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poetry poem

a few more windy days
why so sad my lovely one?
and as we walked the grass was faintly stirred
by the rude bridge
there are gains for all our losses
love has been sung a thousand ways
behold me, in my chiffon, gauze and tinsel
simplicity
there was never a sound beside the wood but one
there was a strangeness on your lips
looking beyond
see, from this counterfeit of him

 



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