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love poetry chat

a bird sang
be in me as the eternal moods
when a deed is done for freedom
sweet with fern and rose
braided and woven
behold me, in my chiffon, gauze and tinsel
with her hair flaying wildly
in his guarded tent
to come so soon to this imagined dark
the smell of the rose so false, the thorns so true
you say you love me
i can not tell you now

 



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