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This is my story.It is mine alone because I am the one who needsto tell it.I am the one who is still here,no longer stage right but
The willow and the windare natural dancing partners;look how the willow weepswith the joy of movement,skillfully rooted to the spot.
Here now skyline assembles fire.The sun collects up to leave.Its bright following paled,suddenly all goes. Dusk rushesin, like door closed on windowless room.
There is a place (believe me,
she said) where if, if
All you see is outside me: my painted smile,the rosy-posy shell, the fluttery eyes.A butter-won’t-melt-in-my-mouth-type me
...not white like the snow
more moon-panther or silvery cloud-cat
This is the kingdom of the Water Bear.
To enter here, you have to shrink
and slow down, down. A day
is one tick of the clock, one blink
'On buses and trains you wouldn't believeThe crazy things that passengers leave:
A pair of crutches, I kid you not,Hot-waterbottle, full but no longer hot
It is midnight in the ice rinkAnd all is cool and still.Darkness seems to hold its breathNothing moves, until
We finished with a song on the football pitchSinging all along on the football pitch Had a little sing with a sing-song-singHad a little fling with a ding-dong-ding