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death poetry

she burst fierce wine
there are gains for all our losses
as i lie roofed in, screened in
she has a clear, wind-sheltered loveliness
the little white prayers
for truth, for love
i expect you
i love the old melodious lays
the long resounding marble corridors
brother, i am fire
why are the things that have no death
while i stood listening, discreetly dumb
therefore i may not

 



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