whatever happens my dear
to this lovely spill
blame not me or no other
what is despair? each moment
a pair
each sweetness a pear
each hour a glorious galore
just us
yes just us in this search for
hands and bosom
this feeling of what love could
really be
away from home
from the madness of this crowd
from the humdrum of
everyone
this is the place of our nakedness
now call me honest
do not utter my name
it is never despair.
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