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Perfect
My life is perfect
even though my face
is a vine without blossoms
and though children
ask me why
all the time
and though I get
smaller and smaller
I’m dancing into a tiny whirl of truth
be youyou
and youyouyou
I can be
everywhere
in love
whirling so fast
in love
I love me
perfect
imperfect
what difference?
A game,
a game.
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this is what I need to hear these days...