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son poem

how wild, how witch-like weird that life should be
lady, your heart has turned to dust
i hold your heart
since, if you stood by my side today
the ancient songs
city that is not a city
she was a beauty in the days
glooms of the live-oaks
i saw with open eyes
they ask me where i've been
when i was broke in london
white foam flower, red flame flower

 



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