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sex poem

made up of loveliness alone
when the hours of day are numbered
my true love from her pillow rose
why so sad my lovely one?
sing again the song you sung
your body's motion is like music
in all things not spoken of
i have seen the proudest stars
when i looked into your eyes
under dusky laurel leaf
that year
we who stood
sleep sweetly in your humble graves

 



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