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Morandi I'm talking about stillness, the hush Of a porcelain center bowl, a tear vase, a jug. I'm talking about space, which is one-sided, Unanswered, and left to dry. I'm talking about paint, about shape, about the void These objects sentry for, and rise from. I'm talking about sin, red drop, white drop, Its warp and curve, which is blue. I'm talking about bottles, and ruin, And what we flash at the darkness, and what for . . . 114 ...

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