Monday, January 14, 2013

My Sweetest Hart Comments

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As my bones grow brittle and my blood runs dry, is there nothing left in this hard, short life?
As my bones grow brittle and my blood runs dry, is there nothing left to keep me alive?
Of brittle bones once full of marrow, and a heart made of the finest arrow,
little is to be seen...
...
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Ivory Snow
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