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He fumbles at your Soul
As Players at the Keys
Before they drop full Music on-
He stuns you by degrees-
Prepares your brittle Nature
For the Ethereal Blow
By fainter Hammers-further heard-
Then nearer-Then so slow
Your Breath has time to straighten-
Your Brain-to bubble Cool-
Deals-One-imperial-Thunderbolt-
That scalps your naked Soul-
When Winds take Forests in the Paws-
The Universe-is still-
He Fumbles At Your Soul
Emily Dickinson
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Poem topics: breath, music, nature, time, brain, universe, cool, ethereal, slow, imperial, I love you, I miss you, soul, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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