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This Light
The sun's corona finagled
Like an inveigling noose
At the small of my neck
But the garish flashes
Cascading the black words
Quells the somnolence
Malingering with the croons
Of this silent snooze.
Drown me with this infinity
And I would never be gone
Never be away in this light,
In this light,
This light.
poem
by
Norman Santos
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