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love poetry chat

dark-eyed
looking beyond
my soul is a dark ploughed field
a storm is riding on the tide
tell me less or tell me more
that year
i saw the archangels in my apple-tree last night
if the red slayer think he slays
for these white arms about my neck
daughters of time
made up of loveliness alone
simplicity
when i was broke in london

 



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