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My heart has become sealed with a Kiss.
A key could be made, but doesn’t exist
Reality will shape its ridges
Idealism will make sure it fits.
And She will be more than mere idea
Never anything less than a dream
Nothing more than I can believe
And never less than lucid fantasy.
Gold is the colour She paints my locket
Only to hide it away as we continue to frolic
My every instinct says she’s just going to hock it
Except of course for my heart
Zealous for your love, beating in your pocket.

Thoughts? Response?

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