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Sketch VIII
A
is in
my sleeping
and
her footsteps
tear
the stones
from their earthly bonds
how do I know?
how can this possibly be
that this
theremin
melody plays
ringing out the
white-and-gold
from the tops
of unseen temples
her VOICE
it must be HER VOICE.
I know
the key
is in the lock
though I can't find the door
can't find
the door
HOW can I miss HER
I don't even know HER
tell me, please, love, tell me please
and
I ask you, reader
on this final note:
why is it that I feel as if I need her everywhere with me
though in my heart
she already is everywhere with me?
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