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  • Sitting by my fire,
    I pluck the first wild strawberry,
    Blushing red.

    A coherent ball of speed,
    Appears, approaches,
    Thrumming vibrant,
    To the Comfrey beside me,

    Coruscating grace,
    Hovering, humming,
    Gathering goodness,
    From purple throats.

    The dark eye meets mine,
    The flame passing,
    Both ways.

    The turning body,
    Flashes ruby, scintillant.

    And departs, at speed.

    Dancing in a different time,
    This ardent heart,
    Beats hundreds of times,
    While mine counts seventy.
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