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best friend poem

i have to say good-night
i stood
three days i heard them grieve when i lay dead
evidenced in the glimmer in your eyes
i saw the archangels in my apple-tree last night
i loathed you
but i cannot read you now
dear wife
they in the darkness gather and ask
moonlight deep and tender
do not grieve that it is over
i am weary of being bitter and weary of being wise
with lips blood red and heart of stone

 



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