Tag Archives: Arts

Species of Adoration

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In my youth her beauty impressed me.

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I poured out my body for her.

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All I love is worth ransacking heaven and earth for a few coins.

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 When the service was over — finding her gone —I followed her and learned in doses what I desired.

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 We communicated with sighs, which we pretended not to understand.

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 She was ashamed, noticing that the linen was stained

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 It was natural that I should love her—her death, a slight of hand —collusion between us.   

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Among innumerable cameras watching us, was hidden the solemn gravity of love.

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 What she pleases is dangerous….when does one know when one is safe?

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 There are advantages to being depleted

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 Victims of love are the least able to resist occupation.

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 Discord, but another name for her affect on me.

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 There are peculiar formations permitting us to glide over each other.

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 Drawn apart produces great agony —in me — the more aggravated.

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 She returned my passions with a red hot iron.

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 Poems amorous: torn.

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 In time her intrigues embittered my mind…I took my mind to pieces and examined its varied compartments.

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 The entire history of affection is expressed by an illusion of intervening connections.    

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Expel all delusions!

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 I have been pierced at regular intervals. gain and again….

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 Paris is no longer in danger.

 

paris is no longer in danger.

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