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In which love moves through dusk and dew and the little tremblings of the world, rising out of music and wind and remembered touch until desire itself seems to breathe in the leaves, the water, the hair, the darkening air.
In which love moves through dusk and dew and the little tremblings of the world, rising out of music and wind and remembered touch until desire itself seems to breathe in the leaves, the water, the hair, the darkening air.
