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Poem	Stripped you're beginning to float free up through the smoke of brushfires and incinerators the unleafed branches won't hold you nor the radar aerials You're what the autumn knew would happen after the last collapse of primary color once the last absolutes were torn to pieces you could begin How you broke open, what sheathed you until this moment I know nothing about it my ignorance of you amazes me now that I watch you starting to give yourself away to the wind
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