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The Asp's Tail Who can bear that light? scything low through stirring trees over the lips of starworn chalices nothing moves so coy and tremendous from the dooms of night out from the phosphorescent belly of moon the dawn a burning ship licks the watertips, the road all the dreamlocked doorways Leave this place the splintered pier fevered mouths and look! the water is a golden asp how it beckons beckons the river |