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type of poetry

and with the humming bird
skies they were ashen and sober
it tells of good old times
let us plant
fat black bucks in a wine-barrel room
a very remarkable history this is
splendid and terrible your love
my sorrow, when she's here with me
we who stood
here falls no light
behold me, in my chiffon, gauze and tinsel
you are beautiful and faded
tell me less or tell me more
give me

 



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