Eclipse of the Moon by Mary Susanah Robbins - HTML preview

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All this talk! And maybe if I lived


in this city, I wouldn't be each time to you

like a plant. What happens in the mind, that


stays, viscous, turbid crystals, doesn't taste.

And you and I, half-met and all each other's,


new ways of keeping the leaves green

lest blossoms spill and fade. No, we can't go

together out in the snow without laughing,

can't retreat

chilled into the light, all honey

we shall have. I think of new ways

to cry before you, and each exasperation of

sweat stills like a silver crown. If I said

I loved it was forever, if I say I love

it is only for the moment. In this is our



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