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If this trick works we can rub our hands
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Let the / desert bloom through ruins we can look out of, let us
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Wild sings the bird of the heart in the forests / of our lives.
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A hand holds out whatever
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Orange swirling flame of days,
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No, I woke. The rest I’ve forgotten.
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Living is no laughing matter:
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Please linger / near the
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Be patient with whatever comes.
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Hands full of sand,
