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The filling of days with people and works, in order to overcome the great inquietude created by inaction, has as its fruit, being left unmoderated, the equally pressing demand for an escape from these very people and works. Where the limits lie, or if even such a distinction between stillness and restlessness is to be found at all, is the crush of my soul these latest moments.

Under these stars We dance
until ecstasy shoves
and we fall
searching each for darkness
we sequestrate
i ponder you not once
in this rapture