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but i cannot read you now
still thirteen years
when the wind works against us in the dark
three years ago today
i bid them all farewell
the snow whispers about me
her face is fair and smooth and fine
though i am little as all little things
look out upon the stars, my love
candles toppling sideways in tomato cans
do the boys and girls still go
have we no shame?
see, from this counterfeit of him

 



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