One.
Clear light like crisp string of diamond mist cascade from the heavens.
Feminine beauty, place thy throne on ice submerged in water.
Where do you take your light my darling.
Gold and gemstone, surely you outshine them all.
Who are you, my mistress? You're more like a thief than a lover, always there but what's in between us?
Why love, should I speak to thee like Romeo and verse in Medieval tongue?
I can only draw thou'st face which my lover do permit me to behold,
Love, what will of thee.
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