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| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Other >> ID #724236 |
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When finally the doctors sigh,
speaking masked amongst themselves, and cut you howling out of me, I am but a writhing animal, drugged and brazen-blind by dazzling alien lights. Then there are pillows, and silence, and you are sleeping on my chest and suddenly I have a star, and the moon, and everything else unceasingly celestial… my view so clear I memorize the shape of every constellation.
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