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The Day I Forgot It Was Raining

My body
existential

Your hair
an uprising of thorns

When wind
is nothing more

than broken tumbleweed

the crows stitching
the air

sewing
up the holes

in the Ozone layer

Your mind is separate

Your leaves are burning

a house

of mirrors
that face

the earth

and deepen
your basement

where you dream of frogs

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