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They say you are made of clouds, they say you
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words have no main switch. But all those little
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in the human heart, meanings like sailboats / setting out
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my mind, in its ascent,
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The thing that lasts is noticing
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Hi! The creator too is blind,
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singing to me from across the forbidden
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There’s break, as in lucky, as in
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let alone cosmos, joy, memory, everything,
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and hands uncurl because I don’t know