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Leonard (Love Poem)
Cohen liquid music trickles into the holes in our lives
It’s four in the morning at the end of December
I came by myself to this very crowded place
Now in Vienna there are ten pretty women
The walls of this hotel are paper thin
Everyone knows the dice is loaded
I loved you for a long long time
I stepped into an avalanche
The door it opens slowly
Baby I’ve been waiting
Like a bird on a wire
If you want a lover
But I am not lost
Snow is falling
Love is a fire
Silence
poem
by
Ian Beckett
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