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  • When hearts are blue, they look to the sky, which knows all about the
    ness, of things.

    When hearts are blue, they go sit in a corner of Skyland, and wait
    for the changeable weather
    systems which hearts
    know all about, even if the charting is unknown,
    even to the spoken.

    When hearts are blue, they look to the waves, even if the waves
    are seagulls' wings spread wide as atria in the sunshine. What do hearts know? Hearts are
    mute feeling things. When hearts
    when hearts are
    blue hearts
    look to empty octopi in ocean deeps, deep as pi itself, in green with eyes in pi wave
    chemistry when hearts
    keen to the blue side, still on the margins the world frames us in that winky mauve pink;
    when hearts are blue we feed them shortbread cookies, because if life were long we could
    abstain but being as life is as short as a cookie, we feed our hearts.

    It's autumn.
    Brisk is crisp.
    My stride is longer, my speed is faster.
    I feed cookies to the blue hearts in the sky corners.

    (Photo by Susan, 2013)
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