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erotic poem

i fill this cup
bring me soft song
risen from the dead
i love my hour of wind and light
a poet, having taken the bridle off his tongue
perhaps it is no matter that you died
mysterious night
i love to steal awhile away
now that i have cooled to you
love has been sung a thousand ways
the swan existing
there is a country full of wine
stand here by my side
on and on

 



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