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You massage the universe's spine the way you twirl through time, and leave shadows on the sun. My love is the wind's song. If it is up to me, i will never die. If it is up to me, i will die a thousand times in an hour and live seven minutes later. If it is up to me, the sun will never cease to shine and the moon will never cease to glow and i'll dance a million tomorrows in the sun rays of the moon rays and bathe in yesterdays of days to come, ignoring all my afterthoughts and preconceived notions. If it is up to me, it is up to me. And thus, is my love. Untainted. Eternal. The wind is the moon's imagination. Wandering, it seeps through cracks, ripples the grass, explores the unknown. My love is my soul's imagination. How do i love thee? Imagine.
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