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christian poetry

how wild, how witch-like weird that life should be
brief on a flying night
but alas, just dreams
the long resounding marble corridors
take my bracelets
the little white prayers
daughters of time
out of me unworthy and unknown
do you think, my boy, when i put my arms around you
weak-winged is song
my son is dead and i am going blind
in mournful numbers

 



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