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Fruits of Moontime


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I have plucked the fruits of moon time, still -
(as diamonds from a child's tiara)
a puzzle to suit your hands
or choices,
your square details
in a tireless, thousand-time
STUCK.
And so, the sky is empty -
of nectarines
and of care
(of your square details)
Which I have decided to find
(you)
lost.



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