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tall reeds mangle against the view we know by memory: a lake still now, but sometimes torn through by waves. You have grown up with this view and tell me of the times it brought you solace; beyond the passersby in your life how it stuck out, refused to disturb you as everything else did, refused to let go of its strange hold on you, my dear lora.
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Apr 26
Apr 26, 2026 at 8:43 PM UTC
We endlessly wend our way
tall reeds mangle against the view we know by memory: a lake still now, but sometimes torn through by waves. You have grown up with this view and tell me of the times it brought you solace; beyond the passersby in your life how it stuck out, refused to disturb you as everything else did, refused to let go of its strange hold on you, my dear lora.
In another part of the country you sent me a message I hold dear: come for a snowshoe with me in my thoughts dear. "So it was right, throughout our lives, never to neglect these realms to which we endlessly wend our way” (22). Mona's Eyes, Thomas Schlesser
GraceA
Written by
F/Voie Des Papillons
Apr 26
Apr 26, 2026 at 8:43 PM UTC
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