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Desolate

I am desolate for beauty,
Desolate to feel the night between us,
Desolate to be forbidden.
There was a pale-mooned caryatid
Holding the pain of refusal high,
Holding the careful hurt on high.
I am desolate for beauty,
Desolate for the restraint of cool things.
                               Selma Derry
                 [3rt]

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