Among Old Papers
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There it lies among old papers, letters and curios;
a gray blurred image, [a] silvery glimmer,
things that are dead and lost to living eyes
looking at themselves in a mirror.
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A room admitting blue light through colored window-panes.
Shining sorceries on which light plays.
A frail encasement
and mirror-like
with black embossed paper.
The intricate patterning of such
substance seems to vanish.
A moment [lost] in vague and wistful thought.
The temptation to open it and glance at it.
The short duration of its sway
becoming more and more of a rarity.
it does not seem to be necessary to have known
the simplest imaginable
imprisoned by the inquisition.
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