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To The Blue Sky. . .
4.18.2004
 
I closed my eyes and wished you were here.

"This is the press of a bashful hand . . . . this is the float and odor of
hair,
This is the touch of my lips to yours . . . . this is the murmur of
yearning,
This is the far-off depth and height reflecting my own face,
This is the thoughtful merge of myself and the outlet again."

From "Song of Myself" by Walt Whitman


- posted by Jonathan@ 9:53 PM

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