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El Shaddai
I called
and I called
again.
The glass
shattered
in my head.
Even, when
I'm riding
I can't
Help but
Yell,
El shaddai!
El shaddai!
At the holy
Hour,
I dream.
She enters
In transparent
Gown.
The tree
From navel,
Rises breast to breast.
el shaddai!
poem
by
Jay Reynolds
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