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If his fingers are stitched flowers in hers, then they must unravel.

If his fingers are entwined with a perennial curse, then their love must be ephemeral.

If his fingers on hers are there only for pity, then their love must be a lie.

But if lies are of paper bridges, and if truths are of wicked hearts —

THEY'D RATHER LIVE IN THIS LYING FANTASY.

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