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By wistful Date: 2002 Apr 08 Comment on this Work [[2002.04.08.03.26.23124]] |
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Time is a stiletto heel Twisting with its focused power All things into dust. So too our love, Ground to clay. And in a sadist whim it rushes Far too quickly past each pleasure To press once more upon the pain So too our love Aches this way. Contrary in its pause and passing Pushing hearts to fall too quickly But the endings: far too slowly. So too our love, Ebbs away. |