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She sleeps and dreams of goslingsshesleepsand dreamsof goslings,dewbows and moonbeamsand all imaginary things.
petrichorthere is nothing so smallas leaves gropingat the warmth of summerin its penultima;one final wane before another yearuntil the first thrill of petrichor
ForeverRummaging through my life, I was strong enough to thank my godas 'warfare' sounds like forever.