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romantic poetry

she burst fierce wine
this is the arsenal
at midnight
of sun nor stars
in their ragged regimentals
have we no shame?
beside a stricken field
with the meek, brown eyes
with lips blood red and heart of stone
out of me unworthy and unknown
never in all my life
noises that strive to tear
what do i owe to you
there was a strangeness on your lips

 



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