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Replying to a comment on:
The cat who would fly (Free verse) by nentwined Tearing the paper of my face,
otherwise so placid--thoughts of a past
that's not yet happened; where my kitten
frolics, just a memory
of this frail thing in front of me;
she coughs and pushes towards me,
threading her claws
through the air; life and death
really are this simple.
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