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He measures out his words, to me
As though a bridge were built
Upon my heart-strung furor;
The cable strings, to tilt.
He gives me not too much-
To bottle up the dam;
But just enough to drain
The emptied heart I am.
He knows that once too much
His soul of me, is given,
The bridges very struts;
Supports will be unriven.
I will not need a bridge, then
To cross over his embrace
His tactics war must fail-
But look once, in his face.
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