quote:

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yea though I walk sometimes
through your valley lady tree
I fear I know of our evil
more than you would care to

lest you became a willow
with the bending of wanting
and ambering up of your eyes
until there were tears again

and you had fragile in your voice
that kept you awake some nights
waiting for the morning tides
to sooth you with another day

and the distant sound of my soul
pretending to be just a wind
wanting your limbs as they dance
over a stranger's praying fingers

on the hem of mosey town outskirts

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