-
isn’t there some oscillating connection between a cycle and a trajectory?
-
All those I remembered passed through my hands like clouds—
-
In the end,
-
I don’t think about you
-
The truth has many forms which are not its form
-
Ah, Love, there is no fleeing from thy might,
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Is it a sin to take the moon? On a night like this?
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How you can blow up
-
clockwork
-
Everything beautiful lay both forwards and backwards.
