Thou art my eyes which rounded see,
Within my sharp transparency;
Thou art my ears which pounding hear,
My whispers be they dim or clear,
Thou art my lips through which I sigh,
Be it night or burning sky;
Thou art the visage which I face,
Filled full of fear or courage traced;
Now art thou but a memory
The heart of my soliloquy.
(CBB Nov 2011)
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