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sex poem

i know what you're going to say
there's one that i once loved so much
there is a city, builded by no hand
it was a tall young oysterman
i see all human wits
music i heard with you was more than music
glooms of the live-oaks
last midnight
the earth keeps some vibration going
glass-blower of time
in their ragged regimentals
desolate and lone
better than granite

 



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