In My Last Hour

Spare me the leisure
For I am far from fond of comfort

Take down the rows of China
Bring the lilacs from the garden

Put the curtains out to dry
Let the fire simmer freely

Open all the windows
Hang the birdcage from the ceiling

Pour the garlic from the chalice
Stamp my letters with the date

And please be sure to listen
To not a word of what I say

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