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I was a troubled lover then and unable to put up the dam for a different river and let the valley to grow. Still cuts me up, satin and waning.

But you did bring me closer to something that I didn’t know and you did fill me with the urge to go on. But now that I don’t need you, can I rest? But now that you don’t me, can I rest?

I am a troubled lover still, wreaths mystery and its warnings still hang on the threshold, guiding me always. Thorns in the haunch, pale embers of yesterday’s fires.

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