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2 Lives of Greta There is that bird again Finding its way In transitive flights— Not fear in the space Where the rock was But its fact— A feeling of if and dirt In the space where the rock was A phrase and its refusal. Then start again. A feeling of if and a feeling of or A feeling of and And a feeling of then Of where and what more But when In life’s nonsense  We think of faces And trembling Come to see them. ...

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