She’s a Player

Only now I depart against this black giddiness of smooth,
Alone only an adorning to her leisurely stocked mood,
Alone without me gone a half to a states cheers,
Alone one of a pleasure to her lonesome years.

Solely at the latter a crows cry out of a secret,
Singled to a silence muffled to a hush of the grass met,
A burning sun, a black hole out of some ground,
Forbade still against unscented newness solely strength laughed abound.

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