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death poetry

take my bracelets
it was many and many a year ago
i loathed you
long has the summer sunlight shone
mysterious night
there are gains for all our losses
i went up and down the streets
their beautiful hair
stuff of the moon
like him whose spirit in the blaze of noon
why are the things that have no death
they may talk of love in a cottage
the meadow was creeping

 



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