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teenage love poem

gone are the three, those sisters rare
my soul goes clad in gorgeous things
that strange companion came on shuffling feet
who loves the rain
i am weary of being bitter and weary of being wise
and my name is truthful
could we but know
behold me, in my chiffon, gauze and tinsel
i have come into the desert because my soul is athirst
brief on a flying night
our pleasant moments fly

 



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