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Mar 2012
purposeless being here

to make naught of what we cannot make

the dream shifts

under/

over

the

horizon

the

glass

fragments glint

in

a

hundred

directions

but

one

catches

the

rainbo­w !

multi-coloured

tears

are

shed !
andrew levin
Written by
andrew levin
617
   Eileen Prunster
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