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sex poem

under dusky laurel leaf
up and down he goes
who will be naming the wind
gingham dog and the calico cat
for these white arms about my neck
with her hair flaying wildly
since i have felt the sense of death
i love my life, but not too well
now for a brisk and cheerful fight
i am in love with high far-seeing places
why do you always stand there shivering
the old songs

 



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