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short love poem

with her hair flaying wildly
i am the wind that wavers
i wonder where you live
somewhere i read a strange, old, rusty tale
i am a woman
when freedom from her mountain height
the agony of having too much power
i saw the first pear
risen from the dead
into the silent land
since i have felt the sense of death
i have heard them in the night
royal feast was done
while i stood listening, discreetly dumb

 



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