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Sep 2010
notes,
when we walk easily and lowly
on an avenue, with a camera, with two hearts
we see and we have seen it
    we breaststroke through a night so
    dark and slovenly as to turn a sunrise purple
    to red, ashamed

books,
when we love properly
when we speak slowly to better hear
the dripping of a warm and raining noon
    there was nowhere left to go for us
    coolly dryly, bookish we sat
    and to a boyish morning, hurtled

will we sit again, as we walk
will we again open those books and laugh
Written by
JG Reposh
723
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