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And that has been a comfort to me these last years, though what the Lord has done for me I don’t know, I hope I’ve always lived right, and surely the Lord should not refuse His creatures And let my cry come unto Thee Most children are not you know, Edward was, they all blamed me, always the same, gone, and then no one, look at my teeth, I am afraid to die, you are young but you know you get afraid I knew It’s good to talk like this to someone, and then I like to tell you these things, never, only the house, died, died, died, soon I will be gone and then no one will remember, there do you hear her, none of you. Sex All the years waiting, the whole, barren, young Life long. The gummy yearning All night long for the far white oval Moving on the ceiling; The hand on the head, the hand in hand; The gummy pages of dirty books by flashlight, Blank as those damaged classical groins; Diffusion of leaves on the night sky, The queer, sublunar walks. And the words: the lily, the flame, the truelove knot, Forget-me-not; coming, going, Having, taking, lying with, Knowing, dying; The old king’s polar sword, The wine glass shattered on the stone floor. And the thing itself not the thing itself, But a metaphor. 70 door in the mountain ...

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