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This is the poem:The Shadow VoiceMy shadow said to me: what is the matterIsn't the moon warmenough for youwhy do you needthe blanket of another bodyWhose kiss is mossAround the picnic tablesThe bright pink hands held sandwichescrumbled by distance. Flies crawlover the sweet instantYou know what is in these blanketsThe trees outside are bending withchildren shooting guns. Leavethem alone. They are playinggames of their own.I give water, I give clean crustsAren't there enough wordsflowing in your veinsto keep you going. My questionis, what is meant by 'the blanket of another body'
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