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Amy Lowell
Opal
You are ice and fire,
The touch of you burns my hands like snow.
You are cold and flame.
You are the crimson of amaryllis,
The silver of moon-touched magnolias.
When I am with you,
My heart is a frozen pond
Gleaming with agitated torches
Amy Lowell
Opal Opal - a poem by Amy Lowell |
