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Started out as a Celtic love song, ended as a poem. It went just the way it needed to.
The thistle I once knew
Had left me behind
My mistletoe married
She found her own kind
Now lovers concealing
By papers I’d signed
These beautiful days, tomorrow
While reading a message
She left in a bowl
A multi-tone passage
Of vessels she rowed
Can I still confide with
A secret bestowed
My darling, she leapt tomorrow
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