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...And on the threshold of your eyes, in swelter,
In sweat, with withered, brittle lips, with ruffled
And flowing-out, escaping eyes, and tangling
With air, with light, with crumbled tongue, I stumble.
To hold your heavy eyeballs that collected
The toll of my now naked yes, the toil
Of my now idle hands, across the threshold,
And inwards, through your eyeholes now I fall...
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