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For Jane

 225 days under grass
and you know more than I.
they have long taken your blood, you are a dry stick in a basket.
is this how it works? in this room the hours of love still make shadows.
when you left you took almost everything.
I kneel in the nights before tigers that will not let me be.
what you were will not happen again.
the tigers have found me and I do not care.

by Charles Bukowski
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