Shall it be considered merely a flight of fancy, when the heart is felt beating against the chest while crowding the throat, the mind insisting to rule the heart only to find it’s self caste aside and afloat… such are the musings of one in love, realizing they are servants of both the earth and the land above; no other experience in life gives the heat of a razor’s cut and that which is the smile, touch, kiss, embrace of one which you find you cannot do without. 

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