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Jun 2020
How funny that air
should leave me so breathless
whipping my cheeks rouge
pulling on my hair
like a puppeteer on strings
strand dancing with strand
wild and free
trees bend from side to side
joyous feverish flow
Lost in music I can't quite hear
blossom twirls a tornado
towards the sky then falls
down upon us like confetti
at a wedding
Written by
daffodil  25/F
(25/F)   
106
 
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