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i love you poem

glooms of the live-oaks
the long resounding marble corridors
let us express our baser passions
how like the stars are these white, nameless faces
as a naked man i go
i know not where
under the harvest moon
you say you love me
lo! 'tis a gala night
there was never a sound beside the wood but one
roses and gold
we break the glass whose sacred wine
when i go back to earth
sad are they who know not love

 



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