| The snow on your eyelids that curtsy with age
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| Is freezing the stares on tyranny’s wings
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| The bitter is hard and the warmth of your skin
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| Is diseased with familiar caresses
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| Withdrawing from splendor and royal decay
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| Among all the triumphs and jaded awards
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| The angry and blazing circus of sun
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| Blasphemes as the crown prince arises
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| You cannot beget all the sins that you owe
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| To the people of paradise magic
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| Pretend to answer passion and form
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| With foreign rationalizations
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| Primroses are the jewels that lurk
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| Among masks of pleasure that flicker with doubt
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| Embraces of fame that’s simultaneously fear
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| To advance and demand to be recognized
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| The river shall flow through hollow green faces
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| Of caricature’s resentment etched out of the tongues
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| Both reluctant princess asleep before birth
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| The classical sensitive failures
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| The worshipping wicked cling to the dark of your heart
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| Lying there and wait with your angels
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| Moan and ravish from dawn to dusk
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| The avaricious young lovers |