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  Jan 13 London Paris
Liana
Even the brightest stars
Will explode
One day

Even the sky
Needs to scream and cry
Sometimes

Even the most beautiful poem
Will one day be forgotten
Even if that's
When we reach oblivion

You're allowed too
Don't feel bad
I need to remember that, maybe you do too.

(this note was written by a shovel that has dug up a purple turtle. The shovel loved doing jumping jacks.)
He left at 67.

No one knew
he caught the first light
through the window glass

smelled dew when autumn came
was joyous at the trills of birds
caught all the blue in his eyes
and smiled the sky was his.

No one knows
if it was too early to go.

He knew
he was briefly happy.
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