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Friday, December 31, 2010

Muse (III)

At last, her spirit leaves me,
The humming, whirring copper cogs,
That life of mine- cast
where it lights that world beyond,
where her eyes are finer
than any pearl in measured light
my single heart could give.

She leaves me my magic,
A stern delusion, keeping me,
To see just beyond
where the pale water, branching,
can still carry us both.

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