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and so we continue as in a dream,
sweeping with grace over blemish, else
tumbling with nightmare intensity
into chaotic collapse, only to crawl
from the rubble back
to musicality, for refuge
or for an illusion of substanceÑpseudo-
climactic flares, and building lulls and sorrows,
a rise of passion to no
known end, only that
the complexity must not break-
must shade, mask the rest-
for who dares 
mar bliss with knowledge?