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Oct 2021
With my voice I call you,  
  with my heart I want you,
    with my nerves I feel you,
I love you. . .
Engulf me in your absence,
          fill me with your song. . .
You are eternally absent,
Born from perfected vanity,
     born to invoke anguish,
          for this loneliness numbs me,
Loving you this way it hurts,
     as you become o̶m̶n̶i̶p̶o̶t̶e̶n̶t̶ over my emotions,
I pray, I plead, burn it down
  for this love hurts.
A Poet
Written by
A Poet  The Moon
(The Moon)   
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