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teenage love poem

i am in love with high far-seeing places
why are the things that have no death
from floor to ceiling
very well, you liberals
let me be sad
when i returned at sunset
i saw you hunched and shivering on the stones
a pen of steel
those on the top say they know you, earth-they are liars
the pale day drowses on the western steep
the rain was over, and the brilliant air

 



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