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Draw...                                                                                                         ..Along
Poems..                                                                                                         ...More



       I blame myself for it: but after a stubborn knocking: it was open to me: finally: just while reading this book: 
Plains: south-west: and the death of mother.  
       I was a young happy night watchman at that time: and: I wanted to find out: what is it:   this poetry and these
poets - from time to time a person will born: who think - this is sexy: and wants to become a poet.   
       I overslept many times while reading: the text came into my dreams: until: I once spilled out:     at half past
three in the morning -  from a rusty watering barrel  - in a corner of a secret wild garden: welcome summer!