fleeting love

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The words on your lips  Could make dying men smile; But my stomach does flips: Your nature is to beguile.   We talked until the sun Blazed down on your fair skin;
I can't see the back of my eyelids. Only the flashing silhouette of her visage. Return to me the details of her face, I pray. But never will it come. It's simply the price I pay for staring at the Sun.
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