They shed velvet ties, soft
tempting;
And I see the change yet
roughness farewell.
No longer
downward gaze.
Only internal point as tall
and where to go.
clean air reaches the ball, and brilliant turquoise
.
Linden has yet to flower,
not remember what happened before,
is like waiting.
And will your perfume from the top
and flood the new flight of the feathered birds.
Craig Morey
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