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angel poem

my soul is a dark ploughed field
there is no flock, however watched and tended
as evening falls
the pale day drowses on the western steep
made up of loveliness alone
tell me not
give me
i am fevered
and how could you dream of meeting
did you ever see an alligator
white foam flower, red flame flower
among the mountains i wandered
sun stepped down from his golden throne
the darkness steals the forms of all the queens

 



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