Bright striped urchins flay each other with sand.
They have contrived a conquest for shell shucks . . . . .
—Hart Crane
The daughter is wed to the delighted father
In a mystic sacrament with paper rings.
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I find most women like the Cyprian maid Before her skin had metamorphosed from Ivory into flesh, before the numb Hardness of her lips had soft repaid Soft lips, before […]
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