untitled by Robert Taylor

Love is foreplay for tricksters, and weapon to pranksters
Fools throw their hearts to the lions; wise men bleed less to stay cold
Yet amongst the madness we seek security
We seek prosperity
Lovers look for freedom in dependence
Dancers seldom perform on a broken leg but return to the stage for
Be love an art, or a crime
An instinct or an addiction
It is an inescapable flaw
Of the greatest moments
People will be allowed

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