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| Song from the Esperanto Susie Timmons |
A hundred bright eyes up in a cypress tree You are drawing nigh and nigher Uh Oh my wings are on fire But just the tips though. Big angels darken my door And drop large orbs of music and song They darken my threshold And stroke my hands with their antique tongues They pull my hair And get my tears to do things. The silver phone rings. I will answer. Thank you! A gift. The mystic shape of an antique tongue Beats my eyes with the grapes of doom. |
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