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Faraway Dreams

November 2, 2011

I used up my marbles.

Light-weight and squandered. I bought up all the chocolate I could find and made myself nauseous from all that sweet. Cotton inside me.

I hear the snow, and I am waiting for it to rush in and freeze me awake. Do such things happen? I am not sure. I have heard of that long-ago land with sticks of wire opening up to bare earth, lit up in a giant fire, beckoning me — come, stay, warm with us for a while, be part of our stories for a while. Dance. Sing. Stay a little longer before you go, before I ache for you in a crowd of distracted faces.

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