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Literature Text
my heart is nearly ten thousand miles away
and each beat is delayed
saying don't be sad, don't be sorry,
you haven't wasted your days.
i am again thinking of ways out,
ways down into the dark,
the same old setbacks, the same old broken parts
in my brain
saying don't be scared, don't be sorry,
you haven't overstated your pain.
and each beat is delayed
saying don't be sad, don't be sorry,
you haven't wasted your days.
i am again thinking of ways out,
ways down into the dark,
the same old setbacks, the same old broken parts
in my brain
saying don't be scared, don't be sorry,
you haven't overstated your pain.
Literature
105
I see flashes of who we were, are, could have been
As though reflected in the windows of passing metro trains.
You cannot tell me you love me in your own language,
a language too serious for people like us,
but I see it in your every movement.
I am not so reticent.
I take my heart from my sleeve and pin it to yours.
Chasms pass between us, and doubts circle like wolves,
and we build our bridges and we light our fires,
but I would consume the moon
if it meant you would howl only for me.
Why are we here? My love?
Literature
interface
sea or sky
do the fish swim
or fly
Literature
Moral Letters to Lucilius
My dear Lucilius.
Once again I encourage you to ponder
The virtues of temperance
And tranquillity.
My dear Lucilius.
Long have I written to you incessantly,
And told you tales of brave souls
That you might copy them.
We are both making great progress.
My dear Lucilius.
Our friends tell me
That in your party nights you pass by my house
And sing just a bit lower
So as not to wake me up.
I have indeed a light sleep,
Though not from cares,
But from the light electric the gods
Planted inside me,
In my spirit,
And that keeps me up at night
While I write to you.
My dear Lucilius.
Tell me news. Some say
That every night you sing
Until your lips stiff
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