The flesh is a sweet melancholy
Like a piece of bruised fruit
What the crows unravel at darkness
In a nearby cemetery tonight all
The stone thumbs are wearing hats
The silent dust of hoary stars
I hear the ground murmur your
Name as I trudge slowly home
Or perhaps it is only a dark angel
Of memory closing the pages of
My baedeker telling me ignorance
Is the only guide I will ever need
Like a piece of bruised fruit
What the crows unravel at darkness
In a nearby cemetery tonight all
The stone thumbs are wearing hats
The silent dust of hoary stars
I hear the ground murmur your
Name as I trudge slowly home
Or perhaps it is only a dark angel
Of memory closing the pages of
My baedeker telling me ignorance
Is the only guide I will ever need
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