III

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you slip in any cell of mine
like an irresistible quicksilver
making art with my blood
keeping me captive with
the graces of a silvery fox
and the instinct of a wolf
for you talk with distant stars
and with the moon and seas 
to guard me like a treasure
for I emit the perfume of love
in III types of notes, felt deep,
me... — you... — us...

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