from "Ghazal: The Beloved" Lines that grapple doubt, written because of the beloved: when grief subsides, what survives the loss of the beloved? Your every declaration is suspect. That was, at least, the departing gloss of the beloved. Were you merely a servant of the state or (now you give the coin a toss) of the beloved? How pure you were, resistant in an orchard. Peace with justice: the cause of the beloved.
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Poetry