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I can step over mountains

and see the plate of dinner

at the other end, where

romeo is waiting, pacing between

the future and the present, touching

savory and sweet, stone and seawater.

You ask me to eat and

then to dance.

You ask me my name and

where I’m going.  I ask you

which taste of cherry is best,

the dark or the summer fruit,

the side of the world or the center,

the light in the darkness or

the voice in the wildhood.

And then the grail

appears on the desert,

juliet dancing for the thirsty.

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