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  • a yellow dress with baby doll sleeves, the impermanence of sweet cowboy boots underneath the kekyboard in Wallingford, her hair shines in combed light as in all-love-songs, all of them, every single one a letter she wrote, or a note on the table with birds in the air, and coming back, to walking on the beach, Texas with Long Island sound, accordion with organ tones right up close to you like Church, maybe, the day before the 4th of July.
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