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May 18
I remember those nights when my mother read me fairy tales,
I would fall asleep in clean white sheets,
dreaming dreams
outside, the wind swayed the branches.
Back then, nothing felt as fairy-tale-like
as the morning
that began with pearl-colored
milk.
Mari
Written by
Mari  30
(30)   
60
     Kalliope, M-E and Rob Rutledge
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