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Some girl a hundred years ago once lived as I do. And she is dead. I am the present, but I know I, too, will pass. The high moment, the burning flash, come and are gone, continuous quicksand. And I don’t want to die.
Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath
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I invented you with the alchemy of my dreams.
Elías Nandino, "Nocturne," from Elías Nandino: Selected Poems
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