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Here I love you. In the dark pines the wind disentangles itself. The moon glows like phosphorus on the vagrant waters. Days, all one kind, go chasing each other. My life grows tired, hungry to no purpose. I love what I do not have. You are so far. My loathing wrestles with the slow twilights. But night comes and starts to sing to me. The moon turns its clockwork dream. The biggest stars look at me with your eyes. And as I love you, the pines in the wind want to sing your name with their leaves of wire.
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