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free love poetry

skies they were ashen and sober
i loathed you
which i wish to remark
tell me less or tell me more
the long resounding marble corridors
short and sweet, and we've come to the end of it
to be able to see every side of every question
the old songs
let us plant
white foam flower, red flame flower
with the meek, brown eyes
therefore i may not

 



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