I worship the moon. Tell me of the soft glow of a candle light and the sweetness of my moon. Don't talk about sorrow, tell me of that treasure, hidden if it is to you, then just remain silent. Last night I lost my grip on reality and welcomed insanity. I said, O Love what kind of face is this, ... angelic, or human? Love said to me, this is beyond anything that you know. Be silent.
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