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short friendship poem

i wonder where you live
i stood
no prey am i of poor thoughts
i am fevered
the smell of the rose so false, the thorns so true
it is true that you say the gods are more use to you than fairies
love has been sung a thousand ways
risen from the dead
my soul goes clad in gorgeous things
i had over-prepared the event
on and on
backward, turn backward

 



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