A dear half fed on,
A woman half laid down,
A girl partially turned on,
between the lanes of morality
and modernity;
Lay the obscure land,
a million dozens;
Can be found lost on,
palpitating, throbbing
seeking that’s left,
hidden for ages long,
a flower So red conceals;
the flecked grey on..

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Stuart Marsee Walt Whitman William Shakespeare Laura Alaniz John Milton Ezra Pound