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From the parted lips
of the winter closet
my mother’s laughter somersaults--
embroidered breeze in the shawl.
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They move sideways and then toward water,
Taking their memories with them,
Combing through Rapunzel grains
They part their hair and rush.
Their bo..
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He has retired from the company of human ears,that blindly clapped to his sea foaming tunes.Crystal orchards flowed over his fingers then,music bendin..
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Stairs are dust.Heaving with the weight of wasted dawn.Onlywayout. Your eyes.
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Step out on the snowand absorb it in.Squarepaper ,when capablelights small shapes of joysin the format of kusudama flowers.When moments on the snow ha..
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Look upon the face of the river.Lines on the forehead are flutes,then angel dust.Quietly, it is a part of the present,with breakfast tables, curtains ..
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If it rains all the night,will the drenched blown out stars have a name?Lightning like the cloudspread oracleis a branching tree.Breathes freelyand in..
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Inside your womb mother of Maneven deserts bear their flowers,sense of shelter fills that roomwith endless healing powers....
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River must choose between her first love and her innocence. What will she do?
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The pure may not always residedeep within the breastsof marble swans,but sometimes in the rainbowsplitfrom the white face of the sun,by a cut glass gi..
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