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Virulently promising, one foot more

through the door, even the hinges creak

under standing, Everytime is only heavenly

in its perfection.


Why is the salesmanship so slippery?

Lost in gazes that meant to listen,

Now, reduced to slumber in petalling words.

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Starward's picture

This reminds me very much of

This reminds me very much of some of the early French symbolist poems---succinct and evocative.


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