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i love you poem

days endeared to every muse
a sky that has never known sun, moon or stars
i saw you hunched and shivering on the stones
who is the runner in the skies
sweet with fern and rose
do i like it
with her hair flaying wildly
be not false
do not grieve that it is over
when night drifts along the streets of the city
the endless, foolish merriment of stars

 



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