The eternal son runs to the mother
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She smoothes his brow and bids him
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Drink from her well of hammered mist
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Too long sweet lad, fog rises from the ground
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The falling soot is just the dust of a shimmering gem
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The black moon shines on a lake
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White as a hand in the dark
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She lifts the lamp to see his face
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The silver ladle of his throat
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The boy, the beast, and the butterfly.
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The sea is a morgue, the sea is a morgue, the needle and the gun
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These things float in blood that has no name
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The telegraph poles are crosses on the line
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Rusted pins, not enough saviours to hang
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She blesses the road, the robe and the road and the noose of vine
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And waits beneath the triangle
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Formed by Mercury, an evening star
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The fifth planet with its blistering sore
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And the soaring eagle above and to the west
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The boy, the beast and the butterfly.
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She walks across a bridge of magpies
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Her hollow tongue fills the brightness with water
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And in the wink of an eye
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One planet with a glittering womb
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One white crow one diamond head
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Big as a world, big as a world
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The boy, the beast, the butterfly
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Hovering
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Above the sore, the blistering sore
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of the fifth planet
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Wait, stop, don't forget, don't forget,
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How I played with you
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How I kissed away your tears
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Don't forget
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The white mouth of the son smiles
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this beautiful tunnel, a seed, a flight.
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-----------------
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Tarkovsky (The Second Stop Is Jupiter)
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Patti Smith |