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wedding poetry

i burn no incense
sleep sweetly in your humble graves
the shadows of the ships
i am a woman
i am weary of being bitter and weary of being wise
pushing out, struggling vainly
those on the top say they know you, earth-they are liars
the body may confine
i have seen the proudest stars
some one complained to the master
from floor to ceiling
brother, i am fire

 



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