she told him more than once
she told him more than once
she told him
more than once
that all of her love affairs
ended with a broken heart
he thought
she meant hers
~ welker ~
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she wrote poetry like jazz
brautigan's riddle
good friday
christine's lament
when the night comes down
my childhood moved so slow and beautiful
life is like a crossword puzzle
antique
christmas eve
she doesn't know i'm writing this poem
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