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Aug 2013
I couldn't believe
how lucky I was.
     even dreaming
of boyish hair in yellow eyes.

My mind knows what to make of it.

still I feel its like a winter,
   coming up on banks of snow
and slowing.

Yet--I recognize the glimmer
of what's buried
that can grow again.

magnetized once more by
space and time.
Written by
Alex Marie
428
   Rosaline Moray
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