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love poem quote

a blue-black nubian plucking oranges
i am dying
i heard the wind all day
your body's motion is like music
those black eyes i once so praised
the sky
when a deed is done for freedom
splendid and terrible your love
i am the wind that wavers
when i returned at sunset
to some the fat gods
there is no flock, however watched and tended
by the rude bridge

 



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