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love poem

the ancient songs
your body's motion is like music
in september
is there anybody there
for truth, for love
we were not many
the ships are lying in the bay
the lightning flashed, and lifted
this is the arsenal
a thin gray shadow on the edge of thought
the shadows of the ships
what spiteful chance steals unawares
thoughts through my head
when the hours of day are numbered

 



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