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My love, while we talked
They removed the roof.  Then
They started on the walls,
Panes of glass uprooting
From timber, like teeth.
But you spoke calmly on,
Your example of courtesy
Compelling me to reply.
When we reached the last
Syllable, nearly accepting
Our positions, I saw that
The floorboards were gone:
It was clay we stood upon.


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Added: 1 Apr 2002 | Last Read: 19 Apr 2018 5:54 AM | Viewed: 4523 times

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