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Love Songs
VIII
by Mina Loy


Midnight empties the street
--- --- --- To the left a boy
--- One wing has been washed in rain
The other will never be clean any more ---
Pulling door-bells to remind
Those that are snug
To the right a haloed ascetic
Threading houses
Probes wounds for souls
--- The poor can't wash in hot water ---
And I don't know which turning to take ---