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Jun 4
Lawn mower,
At noon I hear yours echoes,
Like thunder, spread evenly
Across the earth.

Touching you
Always was unacceptable.
But now it's happened.

The wind rustles
My long plaid pants,
Touching the ends of my hair.
I walk slowly, rejoicing at this day.
Nastia
Written by
Nastia  27/Беларусь
(27/Беларусь)   
10
   Arthur Vaso
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