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72 first night 2000 After the spangles And the stems of fire, the fray of sparks And smoke rolling on the west wind, We feel again The ice under our feet, the dry air That cracks this first kiss in the dark Of a thousand years, The crowds already driving back Through blue fumes of their own exhaust, Until we’re left Alone in the new night, just two, Two, before the nothing that outnumbers us. ...

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