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brother, i am fire
love me at last, or if you will not
i hold your heart
and how could you dream of meeting
through the broad earth's aching breast
we were not many
before the solemn bronze saint
storm
do the boys and girls still go
my son is dead and i am going blind
better than granite
i said, i have shut my heart
brief on a flying night
i have known the silence of the stars and of the sea

 



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