Writing
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Here is a place for you, Set down on fields, that through Your pointless wandering, All breaks down, sundering. Fire that sweeps From your shouldering gaze, Autumn that creeps Towards your Hellish, false haze. I am, what can be called Music, for what is walled. You have trapped yourself in your own glance, Broken and…
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Sweet dreams, Romance, Blessed scenes, Entrance Among faces that scorn the wedded in my arms. They cannot see Who I’ve come to need In arms, embraced among the universe, As she is my sun. My light, unbroken and won. We fall into white blankets and adorned quilts, As decor falls from her legs, Of lace…









