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The Dark Dance While night feathers all with moon brushed breath and draws black lace in counterpoint, while rhythmic chant and pulsing wing of fireflies and wild night flings, come avant garde enchanted dance hold in brief chaste circumstance, the shadows on a waltzing ride dipping to a moon-led stride. Will whimsy ride from star to star connecting dots of fates afar, while moon thrown shadows kiss the grass entwining boughs and limbs of bliss? Darkling romance bitter sweet, will not with the light compete. |
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