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sad poetry

were it not for that singular smell
bring me soft song
i can not tell you now
some of the hurts you have cured
noises that strive to tear
i love to steal awhile away
high-born race
i flung my soul to the air like a falcon flying
dark-eyed
the little white prayers
grieve not for the invisible
somewhere i read a strange, old, rusty tale
in new york harbor

 



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