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*in growing up the one most commended, most grown, most love laden (She floats over in the moonlight She walks, chin tucked, her garb grazing the withered ground she ascends into the cold bitter air her eyes rest on the ground) experiences, melt into the bottoms of Her feet and the cold is the only one to enter her lungs. permeable only, if through and in the Good*
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Jan 23, 2014
Jan 23, 2014 at 7:12 PM UTC
Her name was Old
*in growing up the one most commended, most grown, most love laden (She floats over in the moonlight She walks, chin tucked, her garb grazing the withered ground she ascends into the cold bitter air her eyes rest on the ground) experiences, melt into the bottoms of Her feet and the cold is the only one to enter her lungs. permeable only, if through and in the Good*
In my time here, I have seen that the elderly are the complete individuals. They have seen the beauty in good they feel the pain and sorrow both of the world, in and through the world. In this place, we learn to live.
sophie-monigatti-lake
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Jan 23, 2014
Jan 23, 2014 at 7:12 PM UTC
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