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brother poem

the air is like a butterfly
i gazed upon the glorious sky
brother, i am fire
this is the ship of pearl
i burn no incense
tripping up, falling down
do not turn your head
soft as the bed in the earth
a poet, having taken the bridle off his tongue
do you think, my boy, when i put my arms around you
my true love from her pillow rose
up and down he goes

 



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