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dark poetry

in the sphere
my soul goes clad in gorgeous things
daughter, thou art come to die
the lightning flashed, and lifted
i went up and down the streets
those black eyes i once so praised
perhaps it is no matter that you died
old wine to drink
take my bracelets
better than granite
if it
if i had known how narrow a prison is love
i have cast the world
in the dark and peace of my final bed

 



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