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As always the night came
embracing young corpses, the blue wind smiled but never said 'Hi', ghosts ran in discount espadrilles laying purple haze on woods and lakes. A tangerine elf called us by name to visit the Ukrainian mist- there is a rumor the witches are throwing a party, don't get excited we have to blend in. As tales of horror end quite suddenly, I'll pause my pen and sketch 'Bye, bye': the dark has never been darker, or colder as the wizard's snowflake, to be remembered for children's sake- what's left behind, in secret corners, are jingle bells and nagging cookies.
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