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24 Snow escaping our footsteps. Snow melting out from under itself. Clockworks, though they are very beautiful and tempting to write about. Halcyon days. Pulling out a sweater that still smells of last winter’s perfume.The sound of a slow-moving river. Being a woman, which is fairly easy as long as no one’s around. The slight smell of jasmine tea on a very cold morning.The sound of a cat jumping from a high window. The sound of someone taking a guitar out of its case. A strange desire to touch embers in the fire pit.They wax orange when you blow on them, like recognizing something as true. Lyric, which is a kind of defiant logic and moves like a crowd.The crack of ice melting in a glass of rye. The strident scent of conifer. Any idea of home. things that lose by being written about ...

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