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Nina Violet
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Fill the Well Up
she told me a story, the girl on the swing wing thrumming meadow, heat starts to ring angles of light when the web starts to glow and downward I fell, through my mind, down a well
look up to the moon I saw night in a cup pour starlight down on me and fill the well up the water upon me, the softest of sounds I felt myself rising back up to ground
I reached out my fingers to feel for the sand the smoothest of pebbles, grass, precious strands my scratches were beaded a brilliant red and bursting with living
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