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Alone, I did not move. Worlds changed around me.
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This high summer we love will pour its light
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Who can read the world? Its paragraphs
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My head opens up to the sky.
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They stretch, fold, roll away,
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I walk through poetry out into the world.
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Everything was beautiful
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He said he was the cloud
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This is the beauty of being alone
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We carry a pinch behind each eyeball
