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erotic poem

along the banks
do the boys and girls still go
give me hunger
a thin gray shadow on the edge of thought
better than granite
one with you
i have heard them in the night
i make my shroud, but no one knows
i despise my friends more than you
how like the stars are these white, nameless faces
in and of itself
i can not tell you now
and with the humming bird

 



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