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It reads your pulse, comfortable as dusk,
Comfortable that time flows where it must,
And strength back in recrudescence of life,

That the hands of the sisters Sufficiency and Sun
Smear upon eyes and cheeks,
Some pearly pink and deuce of light.

For there is no vacancy; alone, I have chartered
The place. I put on the lamp as the street sign
Quivers out —  then at the desk that catches my silhouette, I feel

Rhythm stir the air, the beat of my drum in salubrious ear.

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