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They Say That Poetry
Compacts
 Long pieces into short
 Chunks of meaning
 But I say no
 
 Poetry is
 A butterfly dancing
 In open air
 Like lace
 So light and intricate
 With little holes
 For the fabric of your favorite dress to show through
 
 The meaning
 Is scattered like sand
 When you walk on it
 You barely feel the little pricks
 
 But if you bend down to inspect the sand
 You see it flashing gold
 
 And the meaning hits you
 Like rain

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