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prose poetry

when the wind works against us in the dark
this is the ship of pearl
see i give myself to you
when the hours of day are numbered
i shall see a star tonight
brother, i am fire
three years ago today
give me
burly, dozing humble-bee
at midnight
one sweetly solemn thought
have we no shame?
for these white arms about my neck
passing through huddled and ugly walls

 



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