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Glass press, to face and chest; Bless the fresh new faces met, Lest pleasant stings, with thoughtful crests Of white breasted shores, drive thee to bet. Wander old reminiscent highways, Find blessed staring people there Enjoying timid byways With bronze and gorgon hair. A mare lunar darkness Dribbles from their glaring sight; These good people with blue starkness Emanating from their pupil light. I see them now with faces, freshest faces All anew; the thoughtful ones cry naked, The new ones sigh to you.
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Jun 7, 2014
Jun 7, 2014 at 3:36 PM UTC
I am speaking to you
Glass press, to face and chest; Bless the fresh new faces met, Lest pleasant stings, with thoughtful crests Of white breasted shores, drive thee to bet. Wander old reminiscent highways, Find blessed staring people there Enjoying timid byways With bronze and gorgon hair. A mare lunar darkness Dribbles from their glaring sight; These good people with blue starkness Emanating from their pupil light. I see them now with faces, freshest faces All anew; the thoughtful ones cry naked, The new ones sigh to you.
You are my theme.
william-zimmerman
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Jun 7, 2014
Jun 7, 2014 at 3:36 PM UTC
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