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I’ve made a small hole in the silence, a tiny one,
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Tonight as it gets cold
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Rapt, still I ask for song. Unspooling
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I will be the butterfly
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this is
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I belong to no one.
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The stone is a mirror which works poorly.
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Once I knew, then I forgot. It was as if I had
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Our song resettles no rocks, it makes no trees move, it
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The frailest gestures
