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This is Where My Heart Whispers

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There are stirrings between the Earth and I.

They are warm breath and milk teeth and

stanzas of quiet song, the warm rustlings of

birds. My heart, pearl strung beauty, knocks

her feet against the ceiling, tumbling clumsily

into emptiness. She nestles herself into a box

with just one little space left (tiny halogen)

and whispers.



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