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until each ungovernable heart admits: “I confused myself
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This mood kept me up all night, like stars in my face,
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hope what is it be honest with me
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A man’s imagining
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The power of the visible
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each scrap has a shadow—each shadow cast
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Strange love for the living, strange love for the dead
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Can it be that even the greatest Kisser ever arrived
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The men said what
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gold of the leaf, the falling off,