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best love poem

i am singing to you
i saw the archangels in my apple-tree last night
among the smoke and fog of a december afternoon
out of the sparkling sea
world that changes under my hand
i do not pray for peace
tell me
as a white candle
with her hair flaying wildly
i loathed you
sleep sweetly in your humble graves
wheel me down by the meadow
i love to steal awhile away

 



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