The Empty Sea - Poem by James McLain
One window is, it there?
Where I am small;
The empty sea;
Me, now each the parting, parts.
Freedom from the sky soft face one sky
and now warm death, thin clear ice,
Verily over time it, 'you became.
Now without, one 'either
life is imitation made of, 'Grey.
Splendid same loves meaning,
but entirely easier ways than instantly,
coming senses too it is.
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