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Sunlight By Charles Simic
As if you had a message for me... Tell me about the grains of dust On my night table? Are any one of them worth your trouble?
Your burglaries leave no thumbprint Mine, too,are silent. I do my best imagining at night, And you do yours with the held of shadows.
Like actors rehearsing a play, The dark ones withdrew Into remote corners of the room, The rest of us sat in expectation Of your burning orarory.
If you did say something,I'm none the wiser. The breakfast finished, The coffee dregs were unenlightening. Like a lion cage at feeding time, The floor at my feet turned red.
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