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had I known
from the start
what the stars had in mind
might have bound
up my heart early on
perceived as transgression
forgiven as such
unnamed to the darkness
just before dawn
where poetry stands
as proof of our days
was here that we first learned to love
had my soul been aware
of another somewhere
pages unnumbered
and bare
carbon impressions
of weakness and light –
fragile remembrance
of sight

. . .