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footprint poem

the snow whispers about me
mysterious night
by the rude bridge
winged shadows sweeping by
all within and all without me
why then, must we see?
in all things not spoken of
here falls no light
the darkness steals the forms of all the queens
do not turn your head
as a naked man i go
he came and took me by the hand
let me move slowly through the street
we were not many

 



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