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sinewy ghost of ash and air, going
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The word remember touches my hand,
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And spirited from sleep, the astounded soul
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The balls rise like planets
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O moon, o singing fountain,
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a whole room full of bones!
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I’ve been here before, dreaming myself
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This wheel’s on fire
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later I see clearly that no one gets over anything
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The future is a rumor like the past.