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erotic poetry

truely
see, from this counterfeit of him
i think it just splendid
from floor to ceiling
i am singing to you
if it
the sun is up
when i go back to earth
on and on
why are the things that have no death
lived by the river-side
friend, whose smile has come to be
night was black and drear
when i was a boy at college

 



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