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Post by Dunstan Attard on Jun 12, 2007 23:45:37 GMT -5
here old men grow young among splendor of chanting hands; hearts that died into life now come with each cling of a bell to gather haven from the final innocence of transformed earth, where women accept to be served by ages as their men become conscious of their silent smile noticing their candle-lit breasts for the first time throbbing like the green hills of Gozo where pain has finally broken away from the stove; where fragrance of quivering rebirth stirs godly joy with zest of stable earth
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