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they used their wings
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her mantle of weather,
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skin, you can’t win in the space race no matter
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the daylight rushes unheard far above us
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it can be given but can never be sold
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A certain kind of Eden holds us thrall.
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As now he steps forward
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I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
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Sometimes I’d smell supper. Neighbors stopped
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Always know sometimes it’s me