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Post by Raymond Neely on Aug 4, 2011 6:37:46 GMT -5
by Raymond Neely
Days of our love, O, Camelot of my lifetime.
And who gave you charm in things too subtle to be called faults? Did the vase tip when you spun to save our lives, a classical pose toward the heavens?
Your follies are worthy of fame. You go as though wound by some divinity. Your heart and beats, carrying the stone with poetry of new age love.
I clamber in chains after sweet memories of you, a prisoner of love. Granted to us like a diamond to slaves, but who placed you here among the clods and pebbles of the the earth, only to be assaulted by its ugliness, you whose essence is of the water.
You lingered by my side longer than I could have expected. Forgive my unworthiness. Forgive my unworthiness.
You gave me sensual gifts and sentiments. Forgive my unworthiness. Forgive my unworthiness.
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