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■ The oak
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Misunderstood secrets have shaded my door
I open and nobody is in the doorway For a while I don’t draw the fastener To not dismiss my unknown fate. If only I could guess How many times I shall rebuild hope, With what price shall I pay my receipt? For living in sanctuary. I fell to give birth in secret Children of a savage land, my flower’s kids Made by nights on watch when thrown Of dear words and last apparel.
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