I sat up in the strange bed fearing it had been a dream, afraid I would never see her again. Not because I wanted anything from her, only her presence. The disappearance of the presence of beauty is the most despairing of events on this time-wheel of ours that rolls onward towards death.
Roman Payne
My Love wakes in a puddle of sunlight. Her hands asleep beside her. Her hair draped on the lawnlike a mantle of cloth.I give her my troth, for our love is wholeI sing her beauty in my soul
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Fortune's fool! How we humans lie upon beauty like lizards upon a sun-baked rock.
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She wakes in a puddle of sunlight. Her hands asleep beside her. Her hair draped on the lawnlike a mantle of cloth.I give her my trothfor our love is whole; her breath is my wine, her scent is my soul.
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