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Parting

de Golden Apes

I call to you out of two mouthes...
mine and the one that grew so mute...
and every word is hating the silence...
like the summer the remonstrating of the fall...
the seasons´ war...
I talk to you out of four eyes...
the seeing and the sick ones...
and every pair is missing your smiling...
like the spring the winters resignation...
the seasons´ war...

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