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63 When at Last I Join When at last I join the democracy of dirt, a tussock earthed over and grass healed, I’ll gladly conspire in my own diminishment. Let a pink peony bloom from my chest and may it be visited by a charm of bees, who will then carry the talcum of pollen and nectar of clover to the grove where they hive. Let the honey they make be broken from its comb, and release from its golden hold, onto some animal tongue, my soul. ...

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