Thou art such a wonder
that thou can claim
all by thy name,
and I continue
to gather dews on palms,
mist on eyelids,
fleecy clouds on heart,
and kites soaring in mind,
and they all tell me
thou art here, deified.
At least they have given her The State Funeral With tongue cut, She could not have spoken for The rare award, The police have done the th...
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