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Hi! The creator too is blind,
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singing to me from across the forbidden
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There’s break, as in lucky, as in
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let alone cosmos, joy, memory, everything,
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and hands uncurl because I don’t know
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You ask the secret.
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tell me how / to turn my head to listen,
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And who has made hymns fit for the earth? for I am mad with devouring
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what it leaves behind. I used to think
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—just send me down forgiveness, send me down