| The Reiteration... Robert Graves... |
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The death of love comes from reiteration: A single line sung over and over again- No prelude and no end. |
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The word is not, perhaps, 'reiteration'- Nature herself repunctuates her seasons With the same stars, flowers, fruits- Though love's foolish reluctance to survive Springs always from the same mechanical fault: The needle jumps the groove. |
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