| I Will Write... Robert Graves... |
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He had done for her all that a man could, And, some might say, more that a man should, Then was ever a flame so recklessle blown out Or a last goodbye so negligent as this? 'I will write to you,' she muttered briefly, Tilting her cheek for a polite kiss; Then walked away, nor ever turned about... |
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Long letters written and mailed in her own head- There are no mails in a city of the dead. |
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