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cowboy poetry

and as we walked the grass was faintly stirred
the endless, foolish merriment of stars
this is the song of youth
the sky
the ships are lying in the bay
the light withdrawn
now while my lips are living
your body's motion is like music
i am weary of being bitter and weary of being wise
the smell of the rose so false, the thorns so true
you are clear
since, if you stood by my side today
why are the things that have no death

 



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