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The butterflies have flown away, like my ignorance and youth
Eileen Granfors
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pencils racing across paper, a sound I like." Marisol
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to split the very sea into ours and theirs." Border at the BeachAnd More White Sheets
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I never tired of picturing sharks
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Words become sentences, twisted, difficult/The story weaves itself, always noisiest at night/As herds of words won't stop. . . "Wildebeest of Words/Breathe In
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