My favorite since I was a child, William Blake. Yours has a much earlier pedigree, but I haven't made sense of how or why some worlds share poetry while also diverging wildly otherwise.
Perhaps someone has buried that secret along with the rest. What an exhumation that would be! The dark deeds of the past and an explanation of the literature.
You understand precisely what I'm trying to say, and yet you still make fun! I would have every right to be cut to the bone, utterly devastated, if I wanted to.
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Keep that up and I may start to wonder if you're making fun of me. But yes! It is, if not the spice of life, at least one of them.
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And I am making fun, a little.
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