Without the luxury
of love,
lone willet
calls into the fog
and I respond,
as if our one and one
make two.
A mystic algebra,
always searching
for the missing,
lone willet
calls into the fog
and I respond.
Chanting

Without the luxury
of love,
lone willet
calls into the fog
and I respond,
as if our one and one
make two.
A mystic algebra,
always searching
for the missing,
lone willet
calls into the fog
and I respond.
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