We lost her the moment we found out, but can't cry until tomorrow.
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Part of him remained, walking the cracked but peaceful sidewalks of La Paz.
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I get up each day, and on the good days, I allow myself to hope.
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House, car, closet, couch, the memory of her goodness - this was a life.
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the syllables never would come out right, there'd always be awkward ends
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look, tonight la moon is the absolute cold of the possible ghost.
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Seventeen syllables seems like just the right number for this sentence.
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out on a starless road you can learn the true extent of no man's land
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One thing I know for sure is that you do not have a cold (or black) heart.
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Look here -a limitless supply of slightly used rhinestone tiaras.
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Bully wind - lifting weights, tearing down trees - haven't you flexed it enough?
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she's in the gap between sound and silence in the ceasing of church bells
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Finally on the couch together, there each forgetting the other.
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ancient yews on kingley vale, it's dawn, i'm learning a silence by heart.
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dancing alone
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