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Apr 2023
mirror, growing smaller
than a beetle and so
clearer. When he was larger
than life he was fuzzy as

a high-winded kite. I,
tethered to his string,
held onto the whole tangled,
twisted thing. Pulling

it with me as it cut
into my hand. Bleeding
a bright strawberry jam,
attracting hornets, and

dancing in
the buzz. Does it
make me slow down?
Does it not turn me around?
sandra wyllie
Written by
sandra wyllie  56/F
(56/F)   
83
 
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