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love poems

i despise my friends more than you
i saw the archangels in my apple-tree last night
it was a tall young oysterman
are you alive?
why do
had he and i but met
that strange companion came on shuffling feet
there are gains for all our losses
up to her chamber window
among the mountains i wandered
how shall i help to right the world that is going wrong
i am weary of being bitter and weary of being wise

 



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