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And You Love Me

And you love me
 
I love you.
 
You are, then, cold coward.
 
Aye; but, beloved,
When I strive to come to you,
Man’s opinions, a thousand thickets,
My interwoven existence,
My life,
Caught in the stubble of the world
Like a tender veil—
This stays me.
No strange move can I make
Without noise of tearing
I dare not.
 
If love loves,
There is no world
Nor word.
All is lost
Save thought of love
And place to dream.
You love me?
 
I love you.
 
You are, then, cold coward.
 
Aye; but, beloved—
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