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lyric poem

to clothe the fiery thought
afraid no more, i say
i love to steal awhile away
as i lie roofed in, screened in
i've won the race
if it
i burn no incense
when i looked into your eyes
no prey am i of poor thoughts
fat black bucks in a wine-barrel room
do the boys and girls still go
now that i have cooled to you

 



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