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Make of me whatever
you desire. Empty me of everything but you. Memory's the light without the fire, Offering what now will have to do. Remember me for your sake, not for mine. I'm nothing now but what you want to see, A well-wrought miniature of your design, Laid to rest within your marquetry. Days of longing are for you alone As I turn slowly into soil and stone, Yielding what means nothing more to me. Copyright by Nicholas Gordon. Free for personal or non-commercial use.
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