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The voice of a violin lasts in the air
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we live in an understudy world
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back when wildflowers
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I have been younger in October
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across these vast, borderless expanses of time—
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You know how you can’t really look out a window without it
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I remember thinking the sexual significance of
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you who arrive
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and diminish forever.
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Where does oblivion begin? Years I tried to forget?