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sex poem

the arches of the red bridge
look back with longing eyes and know that i will follow
when sea-winds pierced our solitudes
my son is dead and i am going blind
the rain was over, and the brilliant air
in september
rising moon has hid the stars
when night drifts along the streets of the city
a little peach in the orchard grew
i heard the wind all day
out of the deep and the dark
will you glimmer on the sea?

 



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