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daughter poem

the darkness steals the forms of all the queens
skies they were ashen and sober
in an old chamber softly lit
to some the fat gods
see, they return
by the rude bridge
out of me unworthy and unknown
to what shall a woman liken her beloved
will you glimmer on the sea?
one by one, like leaves from a tree
i know what you're going to say

 



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