I have looked at you for a long time now. What you show me is not what I see. Only shadows of myself I forgot to love. They suit you better you turn more beautiful and tragic. -deeper than your shallow beauty.
Voraciously I read you. and it´s me on the paper - longing between the lines. I write your story in the margin. I don´t ask your permission. Fading into footnote I hold you, I hold you.
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