The Ecphorizer
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Even when you arrived
weaned from wind on faded maps in an open boat with a platform of fruit by your seven cousins the rivers dream of a day such as this in your large straw hat hair of black spells and tassels of oranges of a great sorrow. The waves foam like prayer shawls a coat of wings on a map-blue shore you follow the eye of gulls circling labyrinth oceans from open galleys by lost coins, pomegranates, sails and one lone poet. ![]() |
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