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70 Upon reading that tatiana yakovleva, Mayakovsky’s Lover, Separated from Him by the Stalin Purges, Had Married and Was Four Months Pregnant when Mayakovsky Killed Himself Life and I are quits, he said, and the boat of our love has crashed upon the shore. And some of the heavy revolver smoke still crept along the ruined floor like a catamount growling, like an un-trousered cloud, and poems unfinished, unread, ran away in his blood, like little stanzas on the colossal page of the sky. Just then the letter from Paris arrived, with its P.S. The baby is already moving. Such movement! Hear me right now, all who have ever loved me like a gunshot in the night, my rodnoi, my kinsmen lost, all who have ever been hurt by my name, my wounded voice in the smallest hours, that I have loved you as well, like a boat in the darkness, that I know now that love comes again in this world, that I see how clearly the light in the eyes of the mother out walking with her child is the same light that moves in the eyes of her daughter holding her hand, looking up, that it continues, even in the ongoing silence that is our fate, as sweet as all the faces I have loved, this glow, this bright flash, this orangery of the heart, in the baby unborn in your body, the boat upturned on the shore, the pistol lying bloated in my hand. ...

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