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Clair de Lune The moon is honey on the mouths of madmen The orchards and the towns are gluttons Honeybees allegorize the constellations Every moonbeam is a honeybeam now Falling slowly an ooze from heaven Incandescent honey drenches the trellises And I am hiding I am pregnant with intrigue In terror of the stinger of the great North Star Who poured deceitful lights into my hands Who stole the nectar from the compass rose 145 ...

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