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To Part I To Part III
This Love part II This love is outrageous, I rage. Without patience, I rip open (my cage) my ribcage, and whistling, tear my heart to pieces. It’s ripe,-- on each piece, her initials are inscribed. And senseless, my eyes wander endlessly from N to T. Submerged in thought, destiny pensively, traces the road from New York to Toronto with a pencil.