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    whispered voice from the ear

      forgets wind like a butterfly

    whilst weeping tears of a tree

    drip fallen leaves into the eye

               dried clots in the mouth are

             moths flying back into the light  

            glimmering feathers on the skin 

        and words, carved in the air at night

             fiddled memory by the hand

             blows curls to the hair, as much 

           pouring into the silent song 

                    remembers a body of touch

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