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Silence MAG
  What used to be light and breezy, like
  warm summer kisses, like cool white stones and ivy walks
  Turns
  its face to look at me
  Turns
  so I can see every freckle on its lips
  and in its eyes
  Turns
  and grabs me with its sticky fingers
  (fingers i used to adore more than yours)
  They push me down in the cold
  You see me scream
  But your stone is pulled back by its cracks

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