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christmas poetry

since i have felt the sense of death
be not angry with me
i made a vow once, one only
i know not where
sleep, gray brother of death
from floor to ceiling
the swan existing
here lies a most beautiful lady
do you think, my boy, when i put my arms around you
with her hair flaying wildly
softly now the light of day
there was a strangeness on your lips

 



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