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Poem in Blue MAG
I'm feeling kind of morose.
In the stillness between morning
and night, where the blazing blue
light plays tricks on your eyes,
I skim the pads of my fingers
over a delicately frosted window.
When the crest of the sun licks the horizon
and life is breathed into the soil,
I remember you
and the melancholy feeling in my throat
melts away with the ice.
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Favorite Quote:
Immitiation is suicide