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Aug 2018
out into the white yellow concrete jungle
across heat soaked stone

she wished,
with a childish grin,
for a quest,
the whoosh,
she said
a twinkle in her eyes

and i,
tethered to her by locks of lustrous, thick hair,
followed her into the void
my world reduced to the slightest slits
tingly, weightless, floating, bobing on the heat,

and she
dancing just ahead
adorned in pineapples, and melons, and cherries,
and the tiny phone in the tiny pocket
nestled between her shoulder blades,

we looked for
the whoosh
He Pa'amon
Written by
He Pa'amon
   Shanna and Universal Thrum
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