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lost love poem

and so it goes
he came and took me by the hand
pushing out, struggling vainly
city that is not a city
a blue-black nubian plucking oranges
dark-eyed
a pen of steel
with her hair flaying wildly
i love the old melodious lays
noises that strive to tear
one sweetly solemn thought
in halls of sleep you wandered by
passing through huddled and ugly walls

 



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