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The truth that almost come to my
lips
Is clear from my eyes
Sometimes from you, sometimes
from me
It asks for words
To give it structure and come to
my lips
To dance in the embrace of my
voice
But this truth
Is a feeling, just a feeling...
Like a fragrance it floats in air,
A mute fragrance,
That you know is there,
That I know is there,
And is not hidden from this world,
What kind of secret is this?

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