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brother poem

a storm is riding on the tide
better than granite
and breaketh bread no more
behold me, in my chiffon, gauze and tinsel
i was a goddess ere the marble found me
the ancient songs
white foam flower, red flame flower
in the dark and peace of my final bed
simply speaking
she has a clear, wind-sheltered loveliness
our pleasant moments fly
at dawn, he said

 



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