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baby poem

take my bracelets
no prey am i of poor thoughts
burly, dozing humble-bee
a mile behind
all those treasures that lie
your body's motion is like music
all my love for my sweet
awful truths these be
the hypocritic days
i have come into the desert because my soul is athirst
beautiful, tragical faces
look back with longing eyes and know that i will follow

 



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