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what then is love but mourning? |
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what desire but they self burning? |
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time stands still |
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time stands still |
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and i know that this is the movement of bodies |
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each body pulsing with its own time and power |
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each body alone and wrapped with its own remembrance |
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in that loneliness maroon in a stone sea |
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i heard lips whispering complete |
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and sent all time in the palms of my hands and my skin |
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the need for contact |
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shut behind the thirteen bolted doors my feet fetted |
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i dreamed only of the orofices of the watch put there |
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so that one may hook and twine oneself in me |
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continually i dreamed of this confrontation |
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and it was a dream of the most savage jealous and cruellest match |
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time stands still |
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though you are young |
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and i am old |
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though your veins flow |
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and my blood flows |
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the youth is moist |
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the age is dry |
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yet embers live |
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when flames do die |
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all time stands still |
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time stands still |
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time stands still |
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tender grass is easily broke |
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yet who shall shake the sturdy oak |
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you are more fresh and fair than i |
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yet stubs do live |
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when flowers die |
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time stands still |
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time stands still |
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thinkst thou thy fortune still doth cry |
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for tomorrow thou must die |