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I
If I were a madwoman in love, I would have said something about The glowing lamps only lesser to the Radiance of your smile, Or how you're making me see A sunflower dancing in the night.
To say it better, I would be closing My eyes in day jobs, photocopy moving Pictures of the first time My heart disappeared and appeared Inside your chest; Everything is golden, too golden.
II
If you were a book, I would read you so many times Till you will be slipping from my memory, Hour–glass speed, lighter than sand; A windfall gain I lost in the stands.
But I'm still reeling from being A daisy in the rose bush, Staying upon thorns with reluctance And the only thing purloined Is the 'my' from my possession.
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