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Sunday, May 26, 2013

this stone

This stone isn't precious. It isn't, though it is to me. I swallowed it years ago now. It doesn't shine, glint or glimmer. Its colors are muted grays and browns. It sings soft, comforting songs, about lost places it hasn't been and will never go. I can't sell it, but I would share it, if you asked me to show it.
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