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Beloved, In what other lives or lands Have I known your lips? Your Hands? Your Laughter?   Irreverent of death. I do adore.   Hope is there in that we will meet again,
I can smell it. It makes my stomach growl, yet churn. My mouth begins to water,  as I take in the scent. I refuse it, the urge to taste. I have the strength. I will reach my goal.
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