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I N T H E T R A N C E A pretty anarchist said to me It’s not that a great love happens What happened became your great love Her echo had an ancient glow & so proved buoyant for my little craft I left the world & felt a world The bee loading its gloves with powder The albatross wanting one thing from the sea Nothing can wreck our boat said she & when the water felt the glacier The future held a present tense The present held a future without cease 5 0 ...

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