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sad love poem

the little white prayers
high-born race
wheel me down by the meadow
for i was a gaunt, grave councillor
as a white candle
look back with longing eyes and know that i will follow
the fragrance came
i stand in the cold gray weather
my mother taught me that every night
look out upon the stars, my love
i love my life, but not too well
just now

 



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