Home ⇒ 📌Emily Dickinson ⇒ Of Consciousness, her awful Mate
Of Consciousness, her awful Mate
Of Consciousness, her awful Mate
The Soul cannot be rid
As easy the secreting her
Behind the Eyes of God.
The deepest hid is sighted first
And scant to Him the Crowd
What triple Lenses burn upon
The Escapade from God
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