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short love poem

who will be naming the wind
have we no shame?
world that changes under my hand
into the silent land
over the river, on the hill
we lay
i burn no incense
he came and took me by the hand
sweet with fern and rose
i've won the race
see, they return
leave the lovely words unsaid
see, from this counterfeit of him
softly weeping

 



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