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footprint poem

to come so soon to this imagined dark
risen from the dead
like him whose spirit in the blaze of noon
now that i have cooled to you
their beautiful hair
sad are they who know not love
i have come into the desert because my soul is athirst
and so it goes
stern cold man
made up of loveliness alone
days endeared to every muse
look out upon the stars, my love

 



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