were that this rumble of old echoed through me-
i would adore singing against the dawn rising,
but all those old songs have already been written

i shall open my eyes, and, for the first time,
realize i truly and earnestly miss you,that
is to say your lack of presncebrings me pain,
that is to say i wish you were in tangled newness
and rising amorpheous, o dreams
what have you done to my memory-

she will be soon shining on my eyes
and soon i will miss her never until forever


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