" Afternoon forged the artic sun
Decayed in the illumination-luminant phase
All arts are all burned in light
Lightning of the day came to strife.
The contrasts of photographic ecstacy
the light shining in delicious mirth
and all lies smiling in whispers
' I do!' in the fall of time.
And hourglasses painfully succumbs
the crashing tombs of hands unspent
the line we measure in unmesurable theory
comes closer to sabotage with the kiss."
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