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Endplace
One of a firepit, another a grotto
A low, dim mist leaks from between hills like the Milky Way erupted
From deep below
The earth was warm and its emerald undertone became glossy beneath the ice
And ochre paint of daffodils smears with browned frost
The home itself is but a disorganized cabin
With its heavy vines sewn throughout pine beams
And all the world is quiet but fo...
Thursday 30th September 2021 2:10 am
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