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Literature
On 'Love'
The miracle of passion meddles down Into meadows of hours gone : Flowered yet boring to watch until dawn. Discovered yet unretained, the memory Of love the only thread by which we hang. Perfect gallows of lengthy hours. We wait for judgement, Our last meal being each other.
Literature
Nine Words to Say I Miss You
I never knew loneliness;
until the day we met...
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