Pegasus and Satyr
Her two English pugs
Would trot to town with her
To fetch the Sunday paper
And sit and read it in the sun
Over coffee and marmalade
She made the old seem young
Who stood to lose their sight
And left her reverently alone
In that deserted town
Blooming like the cereus at night
So the moths would come
And fertilize her womb
With a trillion stars
See now Horatio she comes
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