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(to be read aloud) She's like a poem everything moves in symmetry from free form to so significant it hurts -- hum hum drum. air pulses sleeps and pulses with the grace of electricity and I forget what it is to be so human drunk on one thousand and one ways -- to say that "it be night" I sleep and the earth graces the clouds with starry eyes -- whistle whistle and humdrum so so -- that no one keeping rhythm -- can escape the dance by rotations per minute and roll down the street without so much as a shell --Sarah Clarke |
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