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Edgar

Long white nimble fingers

like moths wings against fragile pages.

Endless reams of knowledge that are

too precious to unearth.

Pallid, earthy, lank and must.

Words are water to dear Edgar,

whose life can be encompassed so.

Marble jaw, talcum face, gaze of sharp icy fire.

His face is a hall of mirrors,

forcing that agonising moment of truth

he needn't speak, or even move

to express his loathing, love or wrath.