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Iām the lonely summer flutter,
Breezy symphony of wings, And yet tangled up in matter, Your convulsions do not cease. Iām the May of seasonsā purged, Last was laughter, now thereās loathing, Could not have been left indulged, Broken down by all this flooding Swamp emotions, autumnās turn, I lie bare at your feet, Bred of warmth, too numb to burn, All I share is deceitā¦.
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