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.
