elliot r. wolfson
aboutpaintingspoetryscholarship

on one foot dancing

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we, first-person


in love
we chanced
two to be
three times
the death
he died
from truth
she lied
in search
of church
laden
with gold
they sold
in trust
of lust
in mind
we must
be one
human
forgotten
each dawn
the angel
begotten
by midday
disappear
cannot hear
nor say
what is there
to be said
better led
when followed


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