I started breathing again
I learned how van Gogh liked
Dickens sick as he was
he could feel the healthiness
of sentiment and the humor behind
painful fashions and human foibles
in his English contemporary
beauty must be the consolation
prize for goodness I thought
and one had only to learn
not to lie to anyone or oneself
how far back this line
and color of encouragement runs
I had no way of knowing
I woke again suspended
hope my rope
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