The Alien

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A petal drifted loose
  From a great magnolia bloom,
  Your face hung in the gloom,
  Floating, white and close.

  We seemed alone: but another
  Bent o'er you with lips of flame,
  Unknown, without a name,
  Hated, and yet my brother.

  Your one short moan of pain
  Was an exorcising spell:
  The devil flew back to hell;
  We were alone again.

© Aldous Huxley