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The earth knows André Breton,
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Let the rain kiss you.
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Now in the blessed days of more and less
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& sometimes when we were birds
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The air is fresh, smelling of wood.
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When sun, the planet marking off the hours,
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the desolate air between us is no match
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in school, they should have taught us beauty
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By such contrary winds I’m blown in terror
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but in hindsight I know the centuries
