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11 For My Beloved I know . . . ghazals are for my beloved. But she’s been a real whore, my beloved. Oh, baby, don’t lock me out of the house. It’s cold! Open the door, my beloved. How will we make ends meet? I lost my job Of twenty years at Ford, my beloved. “Dearly beloved, we gather . . .” (“It’s our Wedding, don’t look so bored, my beloved.”) A literal lion lives inside me. Your body makes him roar, my beloved. Poor Cain. After he murdered his brother, Abel, he could neither die nor be loved. The world’s gone bankrupt.The only wealth left Is sold at this store: Buy Buy Beloved. Devout believers point prayers to Mecca. I direct my prayers toward my beloved. From all the bottles of vodka I used To drink myself dead poured my beloved. Damn it all to hell, if only you’ll bless The greatest beauty, Lord: my beloved. “A-B-C . . .” She turns apples’ stems, breaks them At “R,” to reach my core: my beloved. ...

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