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Cleaning House
Would it be alright
If I let go of all these pictures
Of our time together
And kept only a vision of you in the morning
Half-naked in the covers
Smiling to see me
Full of invitation
or
What would happen
If I threw away the letters
And remembered only the song you sang in the evening
That night it was raining and the lonely thunder made you cry
But what should I do with these poems
That keep on reaching towards you
Widening out like a river before the sea
They keep on asking
If I can see without pictures
If I can sing without music
If I can be happy again
Without you
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