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You make me feel I am Carrara overwhelmed
With the evasive images you, only, see in me.
They crawl between my thoughts, slip from my tongue, infect
My breath, attempting to escape the dudgeon of my dreams,
The dungeon of my flesh. I'm crammed. I am too small.
Losing the grip on the abyss in me. A haunted house,
I'm looted by my ghosts. Amid my faces, I am lost.
I'm dried by fever to the stupor of a stone. I lie
Below the surface of the marble, out of reach,
Till you release the creatures of your eyes, imprisoned now
In me -- till, with your chisel, you allow them free
To find my naked form, to feel it move inside your eyes.
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