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She stirs leaves to a sudden whirl like summer's hop-scotch girl ankles bound to twice their size whose elegance mystifies fake fur coat wound at the waist with thin twine tied in haste crazy-quilted hand-me-down looped from chin to crown Only the oval of her face betrays her underlying grace only the flutter of her eyes strips away her thick disguise Thin wisp of an autumn miss beatitude betrays your bliss

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