No posts
No signs
No sonnets
No ocean
No gloom
No turning
No meaning
No story
No land
No loom
No present
No sleep
No secret
No business
No order
No breeze
No standing
No knowing
No dreaming
No sequel
No echo
No moon
Like the Buddhist I do not believe in the afterlife but on Sundays When the bells ring in the lonely town of Leverett And there are Thos...
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