By Kenneth Patchen
Submitted by Echolocation
Date: 2002 Dec 18
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For Miriam

Do I not deal with angels
When her lips I touch

So gentle, so warm and sweet -- falsity
Has no sight of her
O the world is a place of veils and roses
When she is there

I am come to her wonder
Like a boy finding a star in a haymow
And there is nothing cruel or mad or evil