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Mar 2019
I’m whirling about
There’s fruit I’ve never seen
And chainsaws
Hanging from the ceiling
Collections of rusted
And nostalgic
Playthings of my
Past memory
The people here
Mimic the eclectic offerings
Every part of the group
Teems with
I feel cherubic laughter
Quiver my lungs again
I head for home
Clutching a book
I acquired
From this impeccable
A wonderful friend of mine invited me to the local flea market, and I couldn’t resist writing about it
Written by
Anna  26/F/Charlotte NC
(26/F/Charlotte NC)   
         Traveler, ---, JaxSpade, ---, --- and 3 others
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