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To my nose she was a stick of incense. Filling me whole, her eyes. The ashes fell, Spacing her walk. With smoke closely trailing. The sun quickly set. There's no where in the world I'd rather be.
  It’s one of those nights.   One where the stars are too still in their orbits, And I can imagine the scent of your perfume Lazily wafting its way around the room,
Why do old women wear musky perfume?  They are not mothballs yet
  I know all you have is me And that I will never be enough But I will bind our love together With such a force  I will shoot fireworks from the tip of my tongue every time I speak of you
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