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M inatauro

the wall
halls upon halls
room enough
this depth
this tireless realm

in the light
its fussllade
you rise
one of those beautiful
the flesh full in the light
of your mouth

somewhere a sea mourns
its loss
and a moon seeks tireless
the tidepools for your beauty

Editing stage: 


i like the task the moon seeks in the poem, it empties its own thought like upon a salt sea

was like its own love with its defection..

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