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I have this nightmare of dawn Transfixing nigh ever, save the most recessed pallor And her deliberate texture and dimension in implacable revelation are won In the same manner of fashion that lightning is misunderstood: It longs not for the warm embrace of substance or sentry, But in the exigencies of volatile elegance Seeks only to arrive. Ramified by circumstance. So, at long last, certain things are apparent - The fabled cities, loved ones, and meanings in translation we've lost Continue to search the absence unknowingly for us As, to them, it is only we who have disappeared. And we carry on in our presumption that we are divided by nothing.
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