Parading

And when the flying is flown and the heart’s

a useless sliver in a glacier and the gown
a useless sliver in a glacier and the gown
hangs still as meat in a locker and eyesight
hangs still as meat in a locker and eyesight
is dashed-down glass and the mouth rust-
is dashed-down glass and the mouth rust-
stoppered, will some twinge still pass between us, —Dean Young
stoppered, will some twinge still pass between us,
—Dean Young

atoms

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