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This Chasm Sweet upon my life

 This Chasm, Sweet, upon my life
I mention it to you,
When Sunrise through a fissure drop
The Day must follow too.
If we demur, its gaping sides Disclose as 'twere a Tomb Ourself am lying straight wherein The Favorite of Doom.
When it has just contained a Life Then, Darling, it will close And yet so bolder every Day So turbulent it grows I'm tempted half to stitch it up With a remaining Breath I should not miss in yielding, though To Him, it would be Death -- And so I bear it big about My Burial -- before A Life quite ready to depart Can harass me no more --

by Emily Dickinson
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