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  • I had a dream once.

    I had it in the sixth grade. All my fears were impeded. All my love was dead in the water. It had nothing to do with myself and had everything to do with everyone. The atmosphere was still and frigid. But below beat the warmth. The warmth pulsed along. The warmth concentrated itself pounding, fracturing the frigidity. Tiny shards of Ice fell to the floor, melting, streaming and pooling below. The pools echoed with sullen grace as they dispersed along predetermined lines. The lines ran deeply upon their courses and grew to a deep ruby red hue. The lines of ruby blood began to quiver as they traced the floor. My body now outlined in blood lay lifeless upon the hard stone. I was older. My prepubescent figure had become a remnant on my now fully-grown person. The blood cut deeply into the stone. As it did, my body dropped further below the surface of the floor.

    Applause echoed about, rattling my teeth, my bones.
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