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romantic love poem

tell me less or tell me more
the saddest of the year
i am a woman
in your arms was still delight
the endless, foolish merriment of stars
still thirteen years
when you come tonight
i love my life, but not too well
up from the south at break of day
stuff of the moon
there by the window in the old house
with the sunset
since, if you stood by my side today

 



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