thy silky hair wavers in the wind,
like a top that always spins
thou art no angel
then why doth it seem be?
how did thy come to my senses,
my senses of ignorance and blindness
why do I run away from such beauty
why art you here in front of me, but not?
i must not quaver in my sleep
i must not hide from my gifts
i must not run by thy heart
thy face, thy
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