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http://goldenrapture.livejournal.com/165016.html
poems
You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting. You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves. Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine. Meanwhile the world goes on. Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain are moving across the landscapes, over the prairies
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Published by :goldenrapture 2008-01-30 20:43:14.0
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