It was then, having written a substantial amount of literature about her eyes, it came to me that I was missing into something important, a crucial detail maybe. While my poems only rhymed through the beguiling galaxies dwelling in her eyeballs, my ink could not sense the calamities they were about to bring for her eyes were insidious. When I only wrote about the way they heal me, I forgot to mention the details of the catastrophe they bring.
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