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sex poem

in all things not spoken of
for i was a gaunt, grave councillor
a thousand silent years ago
afraid no more, i say
they threw a stone, you threw a stone
old wine to drink
splendid and terrible your love
just now
when night drifts along the streets of the city
noises that strive to tear
she must go back, she said
though i am little as all little things

 



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