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Myrrh, and the Sun

by on Dec 10, 2015 in Poetry | 1 comment

Myrhh, and the Sun in the smoke twined up Myrhh burning, golden like raisins, shriveled up, drying on long, twiggy stems on the racks.   Myrhh smoke, pale thin circling lines penciled in dots dust rising Sun on the grey and the sap-gold turning it bright.   Turning from there,...

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