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As always, for my three.
13 1 13
––––––––
You do not complete me.
You do not make me whole.
Our two does not become the one.
We were not born to be together.
You are not my life.
You are not my Sun.
You are not my Moon at night.
You are not my reason,
My life-blood,
Nor my right.
You are not. You do not.
But you may well be
The chink that burst the dam.
You do not
By
Philip Ardagh
