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Grade is real. Steep is an idea but falling is touch.
Blind is feeling. Cold a reminder of flesh;
Withering weather is metaphor icicle branches hold value.
Dropping the perception mesmerizing the angle
Contrast by the welcomed danger;
Fear doesn’t live here. We do.
Posted: 2014-01-13 08:40:43 UTC
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2014-02-10 16:48:34pat
interesting