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erotic poetry

she was a beauty in the days
i expect you
lady, your heart has turned to dust
gingham dog and the calico cat
in all things not spoken of
before the solemn bronze saint
what do i owe to you
stand here by my side
shines the last age, the next with hope is seen
in your arms was still delight
babylon-where i go dreaming
my soul is a dark ploughed field

 



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