Lang Syne

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One kiss with you from decades by -
how sweet it is to melt and lie
with weeds in flagstone gaps and be
absolutely nothing, free.

Figure bizarre occurs to me
in shorts and sun-hat, sips coffee;
his own back-garden zombie, he
experiences rhapsody.

Sluice me, mix me, cake me, bake me,
up within a green wall brick me:
no prison this quaint maze of sense
but dalliance of innocence.

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