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religious poem

there was a time in former years
city that is not a city
i saw him once before
look back with longing eyes and know that i will follow
who is the runner in the skies
as evening falls
let me move slowly through the street
splendid and terrible your love
which i wish to remark
a blue-black nubian plucking oranges
when sea-winds pierced our solitudes
and so it goes
to the passionate lover

 



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