Poetry

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Ich bin dein. Erlöse mich.
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Of eternal honor – March 6, 1836

Sip Iced Tea

Grab a sky and attach a memory.

the pace you keep

He rises above the nightly mist

Not huddled nor hurried

This dream of you

Too Splendid

All the Dancing Girls

My last gasp of free-verse

Incoherent Ramblings

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