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Love Beneath Bashful Stars
Follow me, lovely girl,
I’ll show you the hillside
Where the poets howl
Beneath the drunken moon
And where the wine dreams
Dispel all gloom,
I’m high on your lavender dress,
Your pale shoulders and perfume.
Poetry is the purity of unadulterated desire
Like fucking at midnight in the backyard
Beneath an apple tree while blushing stars
Cover their eyes with leaves.
There is no sin in the heaven I cherish,
The heaven of angelic innocence
Of boys and girls naked without meanness
And filling their hearts with laughter.
poem
by
Uriah Hamilton
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