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lost love poem

the child who threw away leaf after leaf
i am a woman
if i had known how narrow a prison is love
i make my shroud, but no one knows
i never knew the earth had so much gold
it tells of good old times
do not grieve that it is over
i have heard them in the night
from floor to ceiling
stir
i saw the archangels in my apple-tree last night

 



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