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Aug 2011
The visage of thee hast escaped my minds eye.
Thou sweet countenance vanished from the path.
Wilt thou have me die?
Wilt thou have me feign death's wrath?

Lo,
I search,
You're tresses I dare not see.
Behold I have wandered close behind,

Nevermore,
I fear,
A glimpse to be.
Not one on Earth as your resplendent face doth I find.

Pacing poles,
North as due South.
To hearken unto the whispers of your nectarous mouth......
Bobbie Longo
Written by
Bobbie Longo
680
   Jack Piatt and ---
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