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Letters To My Friends

this hell they say – ‘tis real yea! in the best of its crude real-ity! when all the moons in all the nights past me like an hermit … the nights were un-starry & days mourn’d at best whilst death-wishing eloquence danced the dizzy hours & their loathesome moons a countryside lied in a gravely cave & forlorn mounts & hills mixt with their dead almost my … self!

Copyright © | Year Posted 2012




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Book: Reflection on the Important Things