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poem for pastors

stuff of the moon
i loved a woman
over the river they beckon to me
from floor to ceiling
above them all, looking down
i have seen the proudest stars
i love my life, but not too well
have we no shame?
the darkness steals the forms of all the queens
behold me, in my chiffon, gauze and tinsel
our pleasant moments fly
beautiful
i am a woman

 



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