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A Form Of Women

 I have come far enough
from where I was not before
to have seen the things
looking in at me from through the open door

and have walked tonight
by myself
to see the moonlight
and see it as trees

and shapes more fearful
because I feared
what I did not know
but have wanted to know.
My facd is my own, I thought.
But you have seen it turn into a thousand years.
I watched you cry.
I could not touch you.
I wanted very much to touch you but could not.
If it is dark when this is given to you, have care for its content when the moon shines.
My face is my own.
My hands are my own.
My mouth is my own but I am not.
Moon, moon, whn you leave me alone all the darkness is an utter blackness, a pit of fear, a stench, hands unreasonable never to touch.
But I love you.
Do you love me.
What to say when you see me.

by Robert Creeley
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