Septuāgintā Se(i)x

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The glowing moon is
torn in half and hanging
and the dark of night cannot erase this sickness
The cold's embrace can't replace
the warmth in your laughter
The harsh wind
doesn't make me sway
the same way your smile does
I find nothing good enough
to occupy my mind
I crave you
I miss you
But I can't have you

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