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Constantly Reading: T.S. Eliot
What images return
O my daughter.[.]
Bowsprit cracked with ice and paint cracked with heat.
I made this, I have forgotten
And remember.[.]
Made this unknowing, half conscious, unknown, my own.[.]
Living to live in a world of time beyond me, let me
Resign my life for this life, my speech for that unspoken,
The awakened, lips parted, the hope, the new ships.From
Marina.
.
.