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domingo, 29 de maio de 2011



It's wonderful.
Everywhere, so white.
The river has frozen over.
Not a soul on the ice.
Only me skating fast.
I'm speeding past trees,
Leaving little lines in the ice,
Splitting, splitting sound,
Silver heels spitting, spitting snow. There's something moving
Under, under the ice,
Moving under ice,
Through water,
Trying to get out of the cold water.
'It's me.'
Something, someone--help them.
'It's me.'

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