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it appears out of nowhere
and even if I guess it or not I pretend to be too clever to water its roots with lacy butterflies of hope too busy, too awake to walk the walk of dreams daily surrendered to dawn like freedom by caught and trialed killers and when it stings like a bee that knows all about honey all about petals and fate it feels grateful and peaceful and forever lost it appears out of nowhere it floats and the blood carries it everywhere obeying its deep undisputed route to the heart where some day you may turn a London bus
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