I have several poems you've never seen,
several prayers recited that I have not
resounded in the air. I have several
maps for narratives, collected verses,
scattered rhymes and epics. O the characters
that populate the novels, philosophical
treatises and tracts! The woven lines
resemble veils, reveal the mysteries
of other lovers. I have several ideals
that I have realized, several artists
hang in the dull night sky. She is above
the earth like heaven is, above us now
because we are so low. I am the dirt
that turns to dust as breezes move in.
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