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p. Chester Beatty Song Cycle 3 love poem 3

 

p. Chester Beatty Song Cycle 3 love poem 3

(Him)
No innocent tossing a noose, this sister -
        though not born to the stable master -

a toss of the noose comes for me with her hair,
    as if to gather me in with her eyes,
    as if to subjugate me with her thighs,
        her brand at hand to seal me.

 

 

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