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Indecision Identity, known or unknown, survives The lost untempered anguish and the waste. Its hardness holds, affirming him who grieves. What he is not and is it says till death. Then, as a diamond when the chisel cleaves, It is a perfect whole or only dust. Unless, against time’s claim of absolute, Spirit should be Christ’s flesh, not habitant, And rest, itself unchanged, in time’s estate, The righteousness of days one may have spent Learning the surest speech, the oldest act, Will have but sanctity of precedent. And while we live we still are free to choose In his perfected death and resurrection To see all minor deaths and thereby lose Delight in change for final absolution. Or we may wait the death none can refuse Which will, itself, be in time’s disposition.  You are reading copyrighted material published by Ohio University Press/Swallow Press. Unauthorized posting, copying, or distributing of this work except as permitted under U.S. copyright law is illegal and injures the author and publisher. ...

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