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Literature Text
half a limb at best,
she's asking.
pawing at the trunk
of a lightning-blessed tree.
spare me
moments, mere seconds of
temporal freedom
and i swear that i'll
never leave.
she's asking.
pawing at the trunk
of a lightning-blessed tree.
spare me
moments, mere seconds of
temporal freedom
and i swear that i'll
never leave.
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found myself in this poem