She had the way, the want, the style
To reflect desire, to neuter guile
As hand to hand the clauses flew
Juggling thoughts free of intent as
Back and forth the argument
Slewed and slid for
Discontent in unproved
State made for saint come apostate and logic for to confound fate
And determinism's cold embrace did
Gnaw our comfort to the bone till
We saw no path alone
Would bring us surcease,
Ease our pain until we
Crossed our swords again
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