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birthday poetry

your body's motion is like music
high-born race
the hypocritic days
why then, must we see?
see, from this counterfeit of him
perhaps
she has a clear, wind-sheltered loveliness
how shall i help to right the world that is going wrong
out of the deep and the dark
those black eyes i once so praised
you say you love me
up and down he goes
i was a goddess ere the marble found me
he's gone

 



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