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How strange it is, the urge of desire.

To want something and feel its soft inanimate pull

Along the thread of your life.

You feel it tenderly tugging along a web of nerves,

A system so adept at wanting that it falters

As soon as its met.

For a desire, it is said, cannot be sustained

As once the object is gained, we forget.

 

Hettie Moss-Connell