patrice michel
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a circlet of kisses in baby woojums flower garden - part two


Our name will be forgotten
In time
No one will remember our work
Our life will pass like the traces of a cloud
And be scattered like
Mist that is chased by the
Rays of the sun
For our time is the passing of a shadow
And our lives will run like
Sparks through the stubble

I place a delphinium, Blue, upon your grave.

from Blue, by Derek Jarman

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