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Not combing my morning hair,
so lately pillowed in his hand.
Dim in the mist of morning
off the shore of Akashi:
the island hiding the boat
upon which sail all my thoughts.
Walking past my door
unglancing: how she tells me
"so then, die of love."
so lately pillowed in his hand.
Dim in the mist of morning
off the shore of Akashi:
the island hiding the boat
upon which sail all my thoughts.
Walking past my door
unglancing: how she tells me
"so then, die of love."
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