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You massage the universe's spine
the way you twirl through time
and leave shadows on the sun.
My love is the wind song.
If it is up to me, I'll never die.
If it is up to me,
I'll die tomorrow a thousand times
in an hour
and live seven minutes later.
If it is up to me,
the sun will never cease to shine
and the moon will
never cease to glow
and I'll dance a million tomorrows
in the sun rays of the moon waves
and bathe in the
yesterdays of days to come,
ignoring all of my afterthoughts
and preconceived notions.
If it is up to me,
it is up to me.
And thus, is my love.
Untainted.
Eternal.
The wind is the moon's imagination.
Wandering
It seeps through cracks,
ripples the grass,
explores the unknown.
My love is my soul's imagination.
How do I love you?
Imagine.