I should have seen the sign: "Fresh paint,"
But useless to advise
The careless soul, and memory's stained
With cheeks, calves, hands, lips, eyes.
More than all failure, all success,
I loved you, for your skill
In whitening the yellowed world
As white cosmetics will.
Listen, my dark, my friend: by God,
All will grow white somehow,
Whiter than madness or lamp shades
Or bandage on a brow.
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