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Some of our scars join up Like ink lines on two torn Parts of a treasure map. My heart asks hers:   "You wouldn't happen to Carry the other half of This medallion?" Oh, this new love between Old souls. We embrace the mortality Of infatuation, and our flirtations With Death, Our ancient, common friend. Live every day together like we Did our first one, Each one apart as if it's the last. Yes, we'll lose each other. But let's wait a while, While my bad heart and your Cells that always will carry the Threat of relapse Save the last, Beautiful dance for Each other. Some of our Scars line up Perfectly. They've taken us This far, adventurer. I know your legs aren't tired Yet.
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Mar 29, 2017
Mar 29, 2017 at 4:18 PM UTC
The Last, Beautiful Dance
Some of our scars join up Like ink lines on two torn Parts of a treasure map. My heart asks hers:   "You wouldn't happen to Carry the other half of This medallion?" Oh, this new love between Old souls. We embrace the mortality Of infatuation, and our flirtations With Death, Our ancient, common friend. Live every day together like we Did our first one, Each one apart as if it's the last. Yes, we'll lose each other. But let's wait a while, While my bad heart and your Cells that always will carry the Threat of relapse Save the last, Beautiful dance for Each other. Some of our Scars line up Perfectly. They've taken us This far, adventurer. I know your legs aren't tired Yet.
sgholter
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Mar 29, 2017
Mar 29, 2017 at 4:18 PM UTC
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