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Untitled
by Emily Dickinson
Love is anterior to life,
Posterior to death,
Initial of creation, and
The exponent of breath.
Poem
By Tom Clark
Like musical instruments
Abandoned in a field
The parts of your feelings
Are starting to know a quiet
The pure conversion of your
Life into art seems destined
Never to occur
You don't mind
You feel spiritual and alert
As the air must feel
Turning into sky aloft and blue
You feel like
You'll never feel like touching anything or anyone
Again
And then you do
