"How different am I," asks the good ole' paint of the painter; unable to comprehend its master's eccentric choices and strokes.
----
Would you savour the minutes
and hours, for you are The
Cafe Terrace at Night?
Even if the nights were close,
and wide apart as the dual
orientations of your shadow,
will you wait for me
at Cafe Terrace this Night?
----
Would you savour the minutes
and hours, for you are The
Cafe Terrace at Night?
Even if the nights were close,
and wide apart as the dual
orientations of your shadow,
will you wait for me
at Cafe Terrace this Night?
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