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Written by: John Montague | Biography
| Poems
 | Quotes |
 My love, while we talked
They removed the roof.
Then They started on the walls, Panes of glass uprooting From timber, like teeth.
But you spoke calmly on, Your example of courtesy Compelling me to reply.
When we reached the last Syllable, nearly accepting Our positions, I saw that The floorboards were gone: It was clay we stood upon.

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