delga: ([spooks] know it's me for I cannot sleep)
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Now That I Am In Madrid And Can Think
by Frank O'Hara

I think of you
and the continents brilliant and arid
and the slender heart you are sharing my share of with the American air
as the lungs I have felt sonorously subside slowly greet each morning
and your brown lashes flutter revealing two perfect dawns colored by New York

see a vast bridge stretching to the humbled outskirts with only you
standing on the edge of the purple like an only tree

and in Toledo the olive groves' soft blue look at the hills with silver
like glasses like an old lady's hair
it's well known that God and I don't get along together
it's just a view of the brass words to me, I don't care about the Moon
seen through you the great works of death, you are greater

you are smiling, you are emptying the world so we can be alone

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