Be near me, come closer, touch my hand, phrases

Compounded of dear relation, spoken twice,

Once by the lips, once by the services

Of central sense, these minutiae mean more

Than clouds, benevolences, distant heads.

These are within what we permit, in-bar

Exquisite in poverty against the suns

Of ex-bar, in-bar retaining attributes

With which we vested, once, the golden forms

And the damasked memory of the golden forms

And ex-bar’s flower and fire of the festivals

Of the damasked memory of the golden forms,

Before we were wholly human and knew ourselves.

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