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to what shall a woman liken her beloved
there were three in the meadow by the brook
i loathed you
a sky that has never known sun, moon or stars
if it
the agony of having too much power
i have known the silence of the stars and of the sea
over the river, on the hill
i said
day is done
sweet and strong
some of the hurts you have cured
world that changes under my hand

 



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