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Love cavorts with Time. When walking mid-winter in the late afternoon, straight toward sun at low level, she commented that light playing upon the architecture soothed her, as if the moment were an instrument, & brick & mortar danced. Loose-limbed, then, & sung along to, Love cavorts with Time. Nighttime craving its own light called full moon up from watery digs. Cyclical & rhythmic, then, Love cavorts with Time. In dreams, too, light pervades pitch darkness. Erotic & chaotic, then, reaching toward otherworldly realms, Love cavorts with Time. Perfection is not out of the question, then, when Love cavorts with Time.



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