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concrete poetry

the earth keeps some vibration going
you are beautiful and faded
i saw god. do you doubt it?
since i have felt the sense of death
i am the wind that wavers
sleep sweetly in your humble graves
i am weary of being bitter and weary of being wise
babylon-where i go dreaming
in an old chamber softly lit
just as my fingers on these keys
rose and amber was the sunset on the river
sadly speaking

 



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