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Apr 2014
The current will sweep them of their feet
dragging them to where it is forked:
Spring Summer Fall Winter.
Separated by a hanging millimeter
of fragile strength and effortless support.
Yet he who hails from the softest town,
on the inside but not out, has
spinal chills when he entertains that which threaten
the balancing delicacy of a Thread.
A subtler way of screaming, "Argh!" Hehe.
Written by
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  789
   ---, Ishshita Chanda and Jedidiah
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