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Beautiful Midnight

Hush. The night is aging. The sun— A dying memory. Think not of it. The sky—

A sea of dark, dark wine.

The crescent moon—

Our silver cup.

Drink with me.

The day sleeps yet.

Come.

***

But alas—

The night is aging

And soon will be

But a dying memory.

Dream of it with me.

Hush.

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