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All you had

To the spirits within and without
To those whom no one talks about.

All you had and cannot see,
All they said you could be
Down you meet the wild tide’s rising
At Mont Saint-Michel hell in no time,
Seagull lover, can you say: that’s mine?
 
That whole You, having a shrine?
A place to your delusion, ramping wild,
Meet with the spirits of nature, or mine
Other works by M Genth...



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