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When the crowd leaveth,
We seeith who the real ones art...
Goodnight all of HP
Sweetest of dream's (;
Goodnight
From the subtle strokes
of a solemn wrist.
I can see so much
of her on this page.

It could be sadness,
or laughter.
Love sonnets,
or groceries.

Like her eyes,
I get lost
in the flow
of her lines.


Yeah
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