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To her who gave thee birth in amber, I cry out. To her, when the wind stirs, I cry out. Within her fold thou want’st to be placed— Thy tender hands of daisies could never be replaced. _Laai_
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May 6, 2025
May 6, 2025 at 4:53 PM UTC
_Laai_
Daisies
To her who gave thee birth in amber, I cry out. To her, when the wind stirs, I cry out. Within her fold thou want’st to be placed— Thy tender hands of daisies could never be replaced. _Laai_
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