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Eurydice How I hung there Twisting in the wind Tongue swollen and blackening In my mouth--The Hanged Man. What words of solace, of adoration Could a dead man utter That would not have fallen Like maggots from my lips? It was all I could do Not to kiss you, then and there, Abandoning all pretense of restraint Or a corpse's disinterest. Rain splattering my windshield, A mockery of my pain. Jesus, how I wept--Stupid, vain tears So richly deserving Nature's scorn. All I could think of Was how I stood there, suspended, Wanting nothing more than to kiss you Goodbye. Yet even as my heart Fills my mouth with ashes I hear a ghostly footfall Behind me. If I turned to look What would I find Following me From Hades' cold kingdom? Blood staining my bedclothes, A mockery of fertility. Jesus, how I bled--to awaken weaker Eyes swollen, head bursting, emptier than ever. And all I could think of Was how I trudged away from perdition Wanting nothing more than to kiss you Hello.
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