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teen poem

how like the stars are these white, nameless faces
i expect you
she knows a cheap release
when the hours of day are numbered
i love to steal awhile away
look out upon the stars, my love
perhaps
a thin gray shadow on the edge of thought
though i am little as all little things
it was a tall young oysterman
made up of loveliness alone
why are the things that have no death

 



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