Uranõ

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When I breathe,
I think of you.
The air the sky,
The scent so true.
I close my eyes, and
I fall for miles.
Back into your aether.
You are part of me.
A hekaton weight,
Pressed against,
This boon of Aphrodite.
As I fall into a
Hundred hands.
Three brothers baring,
The weight of,
My desolate falling heart.
Delivering me,
To my Eumenides.
Gently placing my
Psyche to rest.
Atop my table,
So my love might
Burn the heavens.
And in this lament,
I might see the flaws,
I might see the pain,
That my,
Existence bent.

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