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vincent-bayley
Whisper
English
Poems
3
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5
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104
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The Bookshop
A whirlwind of leaves. / the warm gust on my face, / the thick smell of coffee,
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Elysium
Your love was dangerous. / Like the beauty of a siren, / it drew me in.
33
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Burning
Feel no shame for what you are, / Bask in your brief glory, / For we are all food for worms.
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