To A Miss

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I, dancing in my own bitter disgrace,
Washed and hung out and my mind unaligned,
And with my memory I did erase.

Unable to maintain a fitful pace,
Body and soul so utterly resigned,
I, dancing in my own disgrace.

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Muses in Love

musesbeach 

And as clichéd as these muses in love,

The aching sun sighs and lays down it’s light,

And we feast on the fat and swollen dove,

Until all our hope fades into the night.

Arching chords of a music so long lost,

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