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I settle up with Mother Sugar My rent for the winter is one confession, the deposit for the suit is a letter to the man who requested I wear it The bell is free (my own burden)   1 To open it, is to experience an event of whiteness, what Bachelard wrote about the almond of a wardrobe’s insides My heart is an almond, lost all its colour Don’t come upon it suddenly, it is very jeune fille, very little fellow, not for the opening   2 Dear […] I didn’t know I was a dog you didn’t want The dog’s religion: You whistled and I came