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HIV

Into the scrape of death,- I sorted things to see And what went into, hiding This understudy and moral ratchet The year of pestilence untidy And who and wonder and her The day of prayer in socket And life as sober, ending well The sky pressed into my hand And heart and please The shoal of weapons, sky Inpostuous ruin and little things Like a day without her to remind In bearing Bread and life beautiful- as much as a husband provides And in this day for reasoning and sense,- I pocketed two of Rome For in there lives a body within To the beautiful and greatest I know And sunset no, for her problem And this difficult repeat for its place Tectonic to nine and moral bits to be home There was nothing left but surrender And to this day of Andrew and knowing where- But what of my esteem am I friending To seasons betold and maybe betrayed I was poor or maybe then not For four duly nights distracted I wished imperil for all for two seconds And knowing the whole of us to muster in truth The days of abandon are done.