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 Jun 11 Mary Bennet
ymmiJ
they die
you don't
that's pain
~
Enter the lair

Of a cloudless grenadine

Misty branches of sun

On the outer marker

And in their place

A strawberry moon

~
Dear Rosemary,
Your scent is so lovely;
Piney and fresh
I want to mesh
Your menth with mine,
You taste really divineĀ 
With lamb, red wine and more
You linger in my garden galore.
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