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(Untitled)
You are asleep
So am I
I am asleep but my eyes are open
My eyes are open and I can see so clearly
You draw in a breath and stir and I pray that I didn't wake you
Beautiful
That's what it is
The beauty of a person is relfected in the quirks of its sleep
The way you tense up and relax, only to tense once again
The way you breath; knowing that you will turn over now
True beauty is a person who looks perfect sleeping
Or perhaps true love is to love the way a person sleeps
I don't know which
I see this all now, it begins to makes sense
But I am asleep
And like all sleepers, I will have to wake up eventually...

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