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elements of poetry

soft as the bed in the earth
beneath my window in a city street
this is the ship of pearl
i saw him once before
royal feast was done
i made a vow once, one only
the meadow was creeping
the pale day drowses on the western steep
one with you
i make my shroud, but no one knows
now while my lips are living
i had over-prepared the event

 



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